I know this journey well, for it was one of the lifelines
that carried me back from my personal
abyss, which I’ve written about before
and will do so again. I have heard a dozen variations of what brought writers
to their knees and how they found the words to spin despair into hope. Although
particular circumstances differ, as does the degree of incapacity, we have
enough in common to recognize our kinship. We are those for whom the
stories-of-the-heart have been a beacon, a sustenance, and a means of growing
even stronger as we heal.
Sometimes, the very act of writing – no matter what the
subject matter – helps us to focus. There’s nothing like a thorny plot twist or
a challenging bit of dialog to distract us from other problems. Joseph Conrad
said, “It’s work that saves us,” and this is as true for writing as for any
other endeavor. Stories, unlike so much of real life, must have structure and
meaning.
Some stories, on the other hand, do more than provide a
framework for intellectual problem-solving. Whether they are characters,
situations, or entire worlds we know and love, or whether they arise during our
time of crisis, they speak to us – they call to us. They give us a voice.
Perhaps a new voice, perhaps one we have lost or that life has battered out of
us. Or maybe it is simply that when we are pushed to the wall, emotionally or
physically, we need to connect with what gives us joy. Wellsprings of secret
delight and unabashedly un-guilty pleasures. And healing.
As I said, I’ve been through my own version of the journey.
So when I read this from Katharine Eliska Kimbriel, her words resonated deeply
with me:
I've been fighting illness for fifteen years, too. I've spent my life savings...saving my life. I still cannot not work at an office job. But I can edit up a storm, and I have an Allie book to finish. That is the reason I kept going. This is the series of my heart, the adventures of Alfreda Sorensson.
One reviewer wrote, “Night
Calls will leave you with . . . the feeling that though there may
be dangers in the world, the powers of goodness and knowledge can overcome.”
Anyone can dump their anguish onto the page, writing for their
own benefit and not necessarily to communicate to a reader. To be sure, such
writing has therapeutic benefit for the writer and in the hands of a skillful
writer can be turned into something of value, often dark and edgy. Several of
my short stories written in crisis eventually made their way into print, and I’m
grateful to have had an editor’s objective judgment in that process.
These “cries from the darkness” stories are quite different
from “calls from the light.” The latter are the stories that nourish us through
sorrows, that keep us going while our hearts and bodies heal, and that give us
something to live for. In 1984, a number of women on the US Olympic track team
trained at the gym where I worked out. I’d never seen anyone work so hard
physically. They’d pin an image where they could see it as they strained and
sweated to their physiological limits – a focus, a goal, a reason. Some stories
are our equivalents. That’s what I hear when I read Kathi’s description of the Alfreda books.
Kathi is in her bones a thoughtful and complex writer with a
great sensitivity to character development and relationship. My introduction to
her work was the Nuala novels, which
I wrote about in “Radiation,
Polyamory, and Adventure: Katharine Eliska Kimbriel's "Nuala" Series.”
I’ve had the joy of reading a short story featuring Allie and her family, and
can hardly wait to read more. Dark fantasy with a hint of the numinous, as
Sherwood Smith observed. A story with heart. And hope.
Here’s more details on Night Calls
Night Calls is available in ebook format from Book View Café. Print on Demand paper versions from Lightning Source and Create Space will follow. Kindred Rites appears in December, and the third book comes out in Spring 2014.“When you have the Gift, your life is not your own.”I was born to a family that harnessed the winds and could read futures in fire and water. Yet my mother kept her secrets.Then the werewolf came, sharing his madness.Now it’s my turn to keep secrets….
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