Rage Rising: How Do I Tell This?

Post-it Heaven

You all have stories you could tell.

Your spouse gets laid off. A child becomes very sick. Someone has to have surgery. A hurricane hits hard.

If you sat down to start the process of journaling or writing your story, where would you start?

I know. Overwhelming.

Most life stories span years. Mine do.

I asked God, “How do I tell this?”

His words, “Start at the beginning. Tell your story.”

Ugh. From the beginning to now, covers ten or more journals, full of daily rantings and puke-it-out-entries. Pages and pages. And pages.

I gathered them all–tricky since we just moved and stashed anything we didn’t immediately need in a storage building. Boxes and boxes of … yeah. Of stuff we don’t need. (That’s another chapter! Or another book!)

I began to go back and figure out what years I needed and gathered them in, along with a stack of post-its. If you have ever journaled and gone back to read those scribblings, you know that sometimes your “I’m gonna get this done today” voice is slowed or stopped altogether. You land on an entry that is so profound … or painful that you read it over and over, the memory washing over you.

One such entry is from January 2001 about a dream I had. Without telling you the whole thing, at the end of the dream I was caught up in grief so deep that I was sobbing, apparently for my daughter. When I woke, I could still hear the sobs. I asked the Lord what it meant. He said, “She won’t die, but she has to go through it and learn to move on.” I had written the Bible verse, “I can do all things through Christ Who strengthens me.” Phil. 4:13.

Easy to say then. Before.

In September 2002, a year and a half later, my daughter, Jenn, got very sick.

Prophetic? Maybe.

I hadn’t read that entry from back then. Sometimes I go back and read a journal but I hadn’t gone back to this one.

Until now.

I Made Things Up About Osceola, Nebraska!

I’m just sitting here on my new back porch, eating lunch. The birds are twittering back and forth. The cat is lurking and probably stalking those birds. Temperature is a balmy 81 degrees. It’s August in Nebraska. I’m not making this up!

So why plot a book in small town Osceola, Nebraska? Seems like nothing happens here, right?

If you read the Orange book about Osceola, there was, at one time, a shoemaker, livestock sales barn, furniture store, billiard parlor (there still is one–in my basement!), lightning rod salesman and on and on!
Yup. Things have changed. There’s now a machine and die company, Quality Machine and Tools, Inc. run by Tim and Kelly.

We have two eateries: Terry’s Drive-Inn run by … Terry, White Eagle and another one in the works.

There are several Ag-related businesses and the biggest bins this side of anywhere. Antiques store, plumber. I can’t name them all! Plus the county seat, hospital and nursing home.

So again, why use Osceola for my book series? No Hobbits here. Life is pretty ordinary.

 

Unless … you make things up. :o)

Did you know there are sink holes and caves and secret pools here?

Only in my books.

Because I make things up!

And that’s what writers do.

Thanks Tosca!

Released Cover MEDIUM WEB

Ask and you shall receive!

But it took me two weeks to drum up the nerve to ask her. I’m so glad I did.

I tried to talk myself out of it. She is so busy with being a newlywed, new mom, new book out, new …

But I did ask her.

This is what she sent: “A curmudgeonly ex-con senior citizen, a little girl named Bea, and her addict mother. An unlikely trio crosses paths on the road to redemption from their pasts in small town Nebraska–with a little help from above. With true-to-life grit and characters you love to love (and some you love to hate), RELEASED is a fresh slice of hope in a world of injured souls.”

Thank you Tosca!