If you’ve been receiving my occasional emails and/or keeping track of me on Facebook, then you know that I’ve had some difficult years. The absence of activity on this blog through the last few years is certainly evidence of that. But I’m glad to say that a few months ago I felt my creativity starting to come back to life, and the writer in me is waking up.
Through this time I’ve been blessed with a new publishing opportunity and I’ve been able to at least manage doing revisions on the five volumes of my Horstberg Saga. If you haven’t already been aware of that, it’s written under the pen name Elizabeth D. Michaels, and it’s available in both Kindle and print format through amazon.com. I’m very grateful to finally have these books out there for my readers, and I am working with White Star Press to finish the last tiny editing details to get the last volume out by the first week of May.
But what I really want to share with you right now is how good it’s felt to be writing again. The writing process is entirely different from doing editing or revisions. One is a right-brain function, and the other is left-brained. In essence, I feel as if my right brain has been flatlined for a few years. Since writing is such an enormous part of who I am, having it go away has been difficult in many ways. My physical health has continued to be a big challenge, and I’ve felt removed from my life, so to speak. While I work with good doctors to continue to try and unravel the mysteries of my complicated health issues, I have found some joy in feeling the writer coming back to life in me. I’m mostly homebound, but it’s much more gratifying to sit at the computer and feel horrible than it is to be in bed with a remote control.
So, the purpose of this blog post is twofold. First I want to let you know that I have just submitted a new novel to Covenant Communications (my LDS publisher) and I’ve also given them a Christmas story that I wrote six years ago but never finished. I feel like Anita Stansfield is back—or at least she’s on her way. And it feels good. With any luck I won’t have lost my touch and the stories will be satisfying for you, my best fans.
The other purpose of this post is to let you know that I’ve felt inspired to start doing more writing in different ways. And one of them is to write more on my blog. So, I guess I’m making kind of an announcement. For those of you who are following my blog, I hope you might find the thoughts I write about here worth reading, and maybe even worth sharing with others. Sometimes my thinking is deep and analytical, sometimes spiritual or emotional—or both. Sometimes it might just be silly, because I’m actually kind of a silly, eccentric person. But I’ve spent my life writing, and looking at life through metaphorical eyes. And I feel strongly guided now to start sharing my thoughts, feelings, and insights more openly here on the World Wide Web. I’m not necessarily going to worry about editing or making what I write grammatically correct. This is just what comes out of my head.
So moving on to my current thoughts, I want to mention that where I live we are just emerging from a few very stormy days. Yesterday—in the middle of April—I laid in my bed early in the morning and watched beautiful, perfect snow falling. We had a lot of wind the previous day (scary wind that rolled over our little bunny house, but the bunnies are fine in case you’re wondering) and more wind came later that made the snow less lovely. But I love snow when it falls quietly without the influence of wind blowing it around. So, yesterday I just soaked it in, realizing that this last winter just didn’t have very much snow, and I think I was snow deprived. I know we need snow in the mountains in order to provide water for the coming months. But when I say I was snow deprived it’s more of an emotional thing. I really like snow, and I felt grateful for this unexpected burst of it in the midst of springtime.
The last few years I must confess I’ve wanted to hang onto winter; I didn’t want spring to come. The world renews itself and wakes up with spring, but I felt like another year had passed and I was still having the same old struggles: health, finances, inability to write. I almost resented spring for coming and preferred the quiet beauty of snow. This year I’m feeling better about the coming of spring because I’m waking up a little myself, even though some challenges still remain. Still, this final showing of winter was somehow soothing to me, and I’m grateful for its appearance. I feel less snow deprived, and it won’t hurt the water supply either. Next week I’ll probably be wanting to use my air conditioning, because my room is always the hottest room in the house, and I’m a woman in my fifties, therefore hot days are not necessarily enjoyable for me. I hole up with my computer and reading more than I go out and enjoy the fresh air. Perhaps that’s part of my creative personality, or perhaps I just have a tendency to live like a bat because I’m rather fond of Batman.
Either way, I feel more ready for spring now. My beloved irises are pushing their way up through the weeds and the dead plant life remaining from last fall. (We’re not big on doing yard work around here.) And the purple buds are starting to show themselves, even amidst the snow on the ground around them. And I’m pushing my way up too, through the storms and the weeds; I’m still here. I’m waking up.