For a decade I have been writing some of
the most difficult stuff ever known to
man or womankind.
When I took my children to a neighbor's
birthday party ten years ago, shortly after
the death of my son Daniel, a man asked
what I did. I told him I wrote.
"What do you write about?"
"Well," and here I swallowed. "My son died.
He had cancer. I write about what it's like
to live after the loss of a child."
"Wow," he said, "That's a hard way to start
a writing career."
No, not so hard, I thought. I can do it.
Not going to be tough at all. I write well,
after all. Sort of...
Truth is, people don't really want to read about
losing a 4-year-old boy to cancer. They'd rather
read almost anything else.
Still, I wrote. I had to write--writing was my
sanity and my survival.
I started an online magazine and for five years
sent out an issue every month to other bereaved
parents all across the world.
My website, http://www.geocities.com/griefhope/index.html
continues with articles on how to write through devastating
I had a non-fiction book with an agent over six
years ago. She tried to sell Writing the Heartache,
a guide on how to write to heal, but bless her heart,
no one bit.
I still believe in the book. People need to know how
to capture all the anguish and beauty and love inside
and remember. Remember your loved one who has died.
This is how you heal.
Writing the Heartache workshops are ones I like to
present. Any time I am asked, I am ready to teach
on the value and importance of penning the heartache.