Kathleen Pooler's Blog, page 16

The Dedication of My Second Memoir: A Mother’s Story

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

 

The Dedication of My Second Memoir

As I get closer to publishing my second memoir, I have given a lot of thought to all the people who have helped me reach this point. From initial inklings that I had a story I wanted tell to a completed manuscript which is currently awaiting word from a small publisher, so many have supported me and guided me in my twenty-year journey.

 

At the heart of the story, Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story of Hope and Healing, is a single mother who in facing simultaneous battles of the downward spiral of her teenaged son to alcohol and her own diagnosis of stage four lymphoma is forced to make a decision.

 

How does a mother survive when her life and the life of her son are at risk?

 

A mother’s love endures no matter the circumstances. And yet, what happens when a mother’s love is not enough to “fix” her son?

 

 

A Mother’s Voice

Even though this was my story, throughout each step of the memoir writing process, my children were uppermost in my mind. They were the impetus for my driving need to make sense of the chaos that addiction created in our family.

Excerpt, Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story:

Brian was a clone of his father with his thick mop of brown hair and eyes that danced with mischief. By the time Brian started playing tee-ball at age five, he showed the promise of following in his dad’s footsteps as a star baseball player, hitting a home run his first time at bat. Leigh Ann was a feisty, blonde curly-haired cutie with an inquisitive, independent nature. My children helped sustain my hope that they would thrive despite Ed’s drinking. I believed I was saving them from the heartache and chaos that addiction created; of watching their father lose himself to alcohol; envisioning them being embarrassed to bring their friends over for fear of what their father would do when they got older.

 

But how I ached for both my children that Ed could not be there for them in the way they needed and deserved. In later years I will ache for Ed and all he had missed because of his drinking.

***

But unveiling all the painful truths would expose my children and I constantly asked myself

Do I have the right to do that?

Will it be worth it?

Will it affect our relationship as adults?

I knew I could not publish this story without the full cooperation of both my children.

The answers to these questions all came in due time as the years passed and distance helped us all sort through the many layers of feelings. Addiction is shrouded in guilt and shame. No one is left unscathed. This may be my story but it is also our story.

It began to feel freeing to break the silence and let go of the guilt and shame.

At ages three-years and eighteen-months, Leigh Ann and Brian gave me the strength to leave an alcoholic marriage.

1976

As the years have gone by, they continue to give me the strength to keep fighting whatever battle is in front of me.

 

Writing a life story is a labor of love. I think of my memoir as a love letter to them.

Just the Way He Walked : A Mother’s Story of Hope and Healing will be dedicated to my children who gave me the strength to hope and heal.

***

How about you? If you were to write a life story, who would you dedicate it to?

I’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Starting next week, I will be on a blogging break for the month of October. I will re-blog previous posts on memoir writing and publishing  tips during this time.

Monday, 10/1/18:

“Tips on Publishing a Memoir”

 

An Army Doctor’s First Day in a War Zone by Dr. Elie Paul Cohen

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

Photo Credit: Afghanistan War Zone www.jewishpolicycenter.org

Since international involvement in the Afghanistan War was triggered in 2001 by the September 11th attack, we have been inundated with daily news of the fight against terrorism and barbarism. Dr. Elie-Paul Cohen offers a  graphic, first-hand account of being on the front lines as an emergency physician, one with a anti-militaristic past. He offers a unique perspective on the medical challenges and the high human price of war in an age when terrorism has expanded to every corner of the world.

My reviews can be found on Amazon, Goodreads, LibraryThings and Riffle Books.

Welcome, Dr Cohen!

Author Dr Elie-Paul Cohen

 

An Army Doctor’s First Day in a War Zone

In my youth, I’d been idealistic and anti-militarist, and had avoided conscription into the French Army. So how did I end up joining the army in middle age and serving in 2011 as an emergency doctor six thousand kilometers away from home, in the hell of the Afghan war? I was a pawn of both destiny and coincidence; yet in the end I ended up being of service. My memoir tells of the surreal sequence of events involving the armies and secret services of several countries that led me to join the French reserve and ultimately go to the British Camp Bastion. There my mission was to study a set of American and British protocols called Damage Control Resuscitation, which provide methods for treating polytraumatized soldiers. Ultimately I would write a report to introduce what I’d learned to the French.

What a switch it was from my life in Paris and London to Afghanistan, a country where cell phones coexist with customs from the Middle Ages! Violence and spirituality commune, as though God and the Devil had met here to come to terms with each other in one of the most seismically active zones of our planet. From the eternal snows of the Hindu Kush in the north to the infernal desert of the Helmand in the south, nature often proves to be hostile. At times I found the stark beauty of the land, harsh and mysterious, enchanting. But I was always in what the military call a “theater of operation” where handicap and death are realities at every moment. In these situations, feelings about the human condition become extreme.

When faced with soldiers who have landed on IEDs and have had one, two, sometimes three limbs amputated, men whose testicles have been hit, I had to split mysef into two in order to control my emotions and remain professional. Otherwise I could not have provided medical care. That was the challenge.

There was one episode I lived through at Camp Bastion that made a particularly deep impression on me and I find myself mulling over it to this day.

A young, wounded British soldier was expected to arrive at the emergency services. As usual, the team was on a war footing. Everything was ready to receive him. When he arrived, we understood quickly that his chances of survival were minimal. Hit in the head by a grenade thrown at the checkpoint he’d been in charge of, he was in a coma. His helmet hadn’t succeeded in protecting him. His face was bloodied and swollen, deformed by the trauma. A compression bandage was on his scalp. Beneath it, the explosion fractured his skull. The impact had caused a brain hemorrhage and the consequent edema was exerting downward pressure on the brain, which moved down toward the occipital orb. The rest of his body seemed intact. The team would do everything possible to save him, but he’d die before he reached the CT scan.

In accordance with the protocol, when a soldier fell in combat, the internet and telephone satellite links were instantly cut off in Camp Bastion, to enable authorities to announce the death to his family in England before the media could get hold of the story. The atmosphere was heavy in the hospital as well as the camp.

The morning after this difficult experience, I was in the recreation room during my break, watching the television, which was permanently turned on. The BBC World News was addressing an internal political matter. Suddenly the program was interrupted, and the photo of a soldier appeared on the screen. He had blue eyes and looked like my son. The journalist announced: “J. D. died yesterday at Camp Bastion. He was 24 years old. He joins the hundreds of brothers-in-arms that have been killed in combat over the past ten years. His family is devastated. His fiancée is pregnant. They were supposed to get married when he returned from his mission.”

I quickly realized that J. D. is the soldier we’d received the day before in the emergency department. I was discovering his actual face and identity only then. The man I’d seen yesterday had a face deformed, destroyed by his injuries. As for his name, in the turmoil I’d forgotten it.

How strange is the modern world with its almost instantaneous communication networks! Time and distance had been abolished. I was only then learning from the BBC World News, broadcast in London, 3,500 miles from Afghanistan, the identity and appearance of this young fighter, who had died right in front of me, yesterday, here at Camp Bastion!

At the end of the day, I attended the prayer service in his memory, before his body was repatriated to the United Kingdom. It was 6:00 in the evening. Soon it would be dusk, because night falls fast at this latitude. At sunset, the still blue sky was streaked with red. The desert was bathed in a very particular and unforgettable faded light. It was hot. Standing in line, at attention, in uniform and with red or green berets, were representatives from all the British units based at Camp Bastion, and almost the entire health service with the exception of those on duty. A Frenchman, I became one with them. It didn’t matter that I was wearing a different uniform. We were all of us, brothers-in-arms serving the same cause, there in memory of J.D.

The eulogy was poignant. His unit commander and one of his fellow fighters took turns speaking and, with much emotion in their voices, recalled J.D. His courage, his sense of friendship, and also his humor. The Anglican priest went on to give a short sermon giving the basic facts, then concluded with the usual prayers. The ceremony ended with the traditional taps played for the dead and cannon fire. We separated in silence to return to our different activities.

In the meantime, night had fallen. The desert engulfed us once again.

I had just arrived at Camp Bastion, and it was my first experience seeing a soldier die.

***

Synopsis, Mission Afghanistan: An Army Doctor’s Memoir

Elie Paul Cohen, a Franco-British civilian emergency doctor, was in his youth an anti-militarist who evaded conscription. But decades later, his military record comes back to haunt him when it turns up in his professional dossier. In a surreal coincidence, the French, British, and Israeli secret services suddenly become interested in recruiting him, and Cohen accepts the deal the French Army offers: he can settle his accounts by serving as a liaison emergency doctor in Afghanistan.

After a year and a half of training, Cohen is in 2011 deployed at Camp Bastion, the largest British Military base since World War II. His mission is twofold: First, to study Damage Control Resuscitation, a new treatment for polytraumatized soldiers that was developed by British doctors in Afghanistan. Second, to share these advanced protocols with the French Military Health Service.

Combining elements of spy thriller and adventure story with reflections on the costs of war, Cohen’s memoir offers a unique perspective on the conflict in Afghanistan, and on the medical challenges presented by the expansion of terrorism into Europe and America.

Amazon link, publication date September 18. 2018

Author Bio:

A pacifist in his youth, Elie-Paul Cohen was a musician before becoming a doctor. Decades later, through a strange series of events, he was recruited by the French Army as an emergency doctor liaison and deployed at the British Camp Bastion in Afghanistan, where he studied the British treatment for poly-traumatized soldiers called Damage Control Resuscitation. Once back in France, Elie worked as emergency doctor. He has a special interest in integrative medicine and works as an osteopath in private practice in Paris. He is also a composer of experimental music, and his triptych, “Antenatal, Coma, and DNA”, bears witness to his experience in both civilian and military medicine.

Website: https://eliepaulcohen.com

***

How about you? How has the war on terrorism affected your life?

We’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Monday, 9/24/18:

“The Dedication of My Second Memoir: A Mother’s Story”

September 2018 Monthly Newsletter: Updates, Memoir Musings and Max Moments:

“Shifting Seasons”

If you’re interested in receiving this monthly newsletter in your inbox, please sign up at the right sidebar. I’d love to have you along!

 

 

 

The Joy of Recovery

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

 

“Through recovery, you uncover the truth that life is uncontrollable at times, but manageable throughout.” ~Dr . Michael McGee, Addiction Specialist

 

The Joy of Recovery

September is designated as National Alcohol and Addictions Recovery Month for the purpose of educating Americans that substance use treatment and mental health services can enable those with a mental and/or substance use disorder to live a healthy and rewarding life.

 

Although strides have been made in addiction treatment, stigma and shame are still associated with addiction. People who have not faced addiction first-hand, either in themselves or a loved one can not possible know what it’s like.

 

The lived experience…

As the mother of an alcoholic son, I know the dark and ugly side of addiction. I also know the shame and guilt of watching a beloved child spiral downward with no hope in sight. My upcoming memoir, Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story of Hope and Healing addresses the desperate search for hope and recovery from the ominous and relentless presence of addiction in our family. Our story could be any family’s story.

 

Surely, it takes courage to face the reality that addiction has taken over one’s life. My greatest fear came alive in vivid technicolor when I saw my son Brian drunk for the first time. He was fourteen-years-old. He drank steadily and with consequence for the next twenty–four years. I couldn’t see beyond my own pain and despair that he had a disease that had taken over his life. Active addiction became a way of life for him. I kept thinking he could change if he willed himself to change. But it’s not that simple. As I learned more about the disease, I became more open to his side of the story. In the end, it was by the grace of God and by his own determination and grit that my son achieved sobriety. I thought I was the one being brave when, in fact, Brian was the one fighting the battle of and for his life. And he was the one who fought and persevered until he achieved sobriety. Anyone who scrapes and claws their way up from the abyss of addiction to a life of sobriety and serenity is a hero. Recovery is a hard-earned, lifelong effort not to be taken for granted and requires diligence one day at a time, everyday. I’ll never know what finally made a difference for Brian. What I do know is that he had to decide for himself –and has to decide every day–that he can not drink. No one can do it for him.

 

This is why I read with great interest Dr Michael McGee’s new book, The Joy of Recovery: The New 12-Step Guide to Recovery From Addiction.

Amazon link

Here is my review:

 

Dr. Michael McGee is an addiction specialist who has written a comprehensive and compassionate guide for those afflicted with addiction of any kind. His goal is to help people live their best life. His twelve-step approach developed over his thirty years of experience helping people with addictions includes the following 12 Touchstones of Recovery: work on recovery, create a positive recovery environment, renounce addiction, act with integrity, heal, love, respect reality, grow, persevere, develop healthy relationships, take accountability, cultivate your spirituality. “If you work to live your life according to these Touchstones, you will see your life flourish.”

 

He addresses the biological, mental and spiritual aspects of addiction and offers tools for self-assessment. The book can then be used as a guide to recovery. After each Touchstone, he provides tasks and tips to further explore how addiction has impacted you and ways to develop a concrete recovery plan.

 

As a credible expert, Dr McGee offers much substance and hope to those who suffer from addiction. This book is a valuable asset for not only people who suffer addiction and are looking for a path to recovery but also for families and professionals who work closely with the addicted population.

 Disclosure: I received a copy of this book in exchange for an honest review.

***

A message of hope…

I have experienced the joy of recovery with my son. It is nothing short of a miracle.

Millions of Americans have transformed their lives through recovery. The goal of National Alcohol and Addictions Recovery Month is to increase awareness and understanding about addictive diseases.

May this message of hope be spread to those struggling with addiction.

www.lightedpathcoaching.com

***

How about you? How has addiction affected you and your family? Have you experienced the joy of recovery?

I’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

This Week:

Monday, 9/10/18:

I am honored to be over at Susan Weidener’s Women’s Writing Circle blog with a guest post ,

“The Pros and Cons of Writing About Family in Memoir”

 

Next Week:

Monday, 9/17/18:

“An Army Doctor’s First Day in a War Zone by Dr Elie Paul Cohen”

Dr Cohen is the author of Mission Afghanistan: An Army Doctor’s Memoir, translated by Jessica Levine.

 

 

Our Stories Matter

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

 

“Stories make us more alive, more human, more courageous, more loving.”

— Madeleine L’Engle

 

Photo Credit: dreamstimefree

Our Stories Matter

I don’t usually read young adult novels but I made an exception when fellow author David Naiman shared his new book, Jake, Lucid Dreamer, with me. I had read David’s first book, Didn’t Get Frazzled, a humorous medical fiction under the pen name David Hirsch,MD and enjoyed it very much. David was my guest in this post, “The Novel and The Memoir; Two Paths to the Truth”.

Good Stories are Full of Surprises…

What surprised me when I read Jake, Lucid Dreamer, about a twelve-year-old boy who is bullied in school, was how I connected the story to that of my own grandson, Jacob who at age eleven had confessed to being bullied in the fourth and fifth grades. I blogged about it in “Bullying is Killing Our Kids”. The consequences of bullying are far-reaching and affect everyone in the family and community. Thankfully, Jacob,now thirteen, is a thriving, happy, soon-to-be eighth grader. He received the support he needed from his parents and the school to move on from the experience but I often wonder how the experience has affected him. Does he still feel the trauma? And what about the kids who don’t have the advantages of supportive parents? Bullying remains a major issue in our society.

How this story helped me…

This story helped me process the myriad of feelings I experienced when I found out Jacob had been bullied—anger bordering on fury, helplessness, sorrow. I wondered if Jacob might enjoy the story. I bought him the book and he read it over the summer. To my delight, he loved the story. Perhaps he felt that he had moved beyond the trauma and was becoming his own person. He has many new friends and participates in activities he loves—cross-country, mountain biking, basketball. He smiles and laughs freely. The classmates who were the bullies have become non-entities. He avoids them. Jake, Lucid Dreamer could be his story. I’d like to think that reading it helped him reinforce that he has the strength within to overcome life’s challenges.

***

 

Here is my review of Jake, Lucid Dreamer:

 

This coming-of-age young adult novel is told from the point of view of a twelve- year- old boy, Jake, who is grappling with bullies at school and the loss of his beloved mother through cancer. In order to cope, he seeks out answers through his vivid dream world, ultimately learning how to control his feelings and responses to these difficult challenges.

As the grandmother of several middle-school boys, Jake’s voice and story resonated with me. The scenes, dialogue and characters were realistic and believable and the story is engaging and fast paced. Naiman’s storytelling abilities and crisp writing style held me hostage to the pages. This story has a particular meaning to this reader as one of my grandsons experienced bullying in school and although he has moved on from it, I can attest to the harmful effects it has on a young person’s mind to say nothing of what it does to those who love them. In this regard, I found the story relevant for both the middle school age group and the adults in this person’s life.

A compelling, well-crafted, timely story that addresses relevant topics of loss, healthy boundaries and the challenges of coming–of–age in our current society. In addition to being an entertaining read, I recommend it to middle schoolers, teachers, health care providers and parents. It breaks the silence about two devastating scenarios—death of a parent and bullying in school– that our young people face. If one child is helped by reading it, it will be worth it. I ordered a copy for my grandson.

Disclaimer: I received a Kindle version of this story by the author in exchange for an honest review.

Amazon link

***

Sharing our stories matters. And this is a perfect example of how one story opened up even more channels of communication between a grandmother and a grandson. That is the power of story.

***

How about you? Have you read a story that has mattered to you in a meaningful way? 

I’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Monday, 9/10/18: 

“The Joy of Recovery” a reflection on Dr Michael McGee’s latest book, The Joy of Recovery, a unique and comprehensive guide to addiction recovery.

“The Pitfalls and Rewards of Writing About Family”, a guest post on Susan Weidener’s Women’s Writing Circle blog.

 

When Do You Know Your Memoir is Finished?

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

“So I don’t think there’s some universal sign you can rely on to know it’s done. You just have to decide This is truly as good as I am able or willing to make this book, and then hope a publisher agrees that’s good enough.” ~ Elisa Gabbert

Photo Credit: Pixabay Free Image

 

 

When Do You Know Your Memoir is Finished?

There’s a difference between knowing when to scrap a story and when to keep writing the story you’ve been writing until it’s finished.

 

There were plenty of times in the twenty years I spent writing my current memoir, Just the Way He Walked : A Mother’s Story of Hope and Healing, when I had to walk away from it, either because I felt stuck with the story line or because I needed a break from the emotional intensity of reliving past challenges.

 

And there were many times when I questioned if I could publish this story about my son’s addiction. It required exhaustive negotiations about what to omit or change. And should I even consider publishing a story so personal and harrowing? Will it jeopardize my relationship with my son and daughter?

 

I kept going back to the main question:

What is my purpose in sharing this story?

This question was my guiding light through all the twists and turns of the writing process.

With my intent clear in my own mind…share hope with other parents of addicted children…I could reframe the story to guide my son through the process.

In time…and it takes time to let the story unfold…my sober son became more comfortable confronting past behaviors. We began having an open dialogue about the various scenes and he has helped me clarify the timelines.

 

So how do I know that the memoir is as finished as I can make it?

 

I don’t have those late night “scene pops” where I can’t sleep because I remember an important scene to include. I stopped writing frantic notes on napkins and any scrap of paper I could find before I forgot the thought.

 

I omitted scenes that didn’t move the story along.

 

Each re-read yields fewer typos or punctuation corrections.

 

I feel satisfied that both my children have had the time and opportunity to be a part of the process. No surprises.

 

I’m as finished as I’m going to be and am well aware that more edits will be in store when I send it off to a small publisher. It still needs a copy edit, final proofread, book cover and final formatting.

It has already been through the paces with eight beta readers and three rounds of professional developmental editing.

A memoir is finished when you decide it is finished.

I decided …it’s time to ship it and I will take it from there:

 

***

How about you? When do you know your memoir or writing project is finished?

I’d love to hear from you . Please join in the conversation below~

***

This Week:

Monday, 8/27/18:

August 2018 Newsletter: Monthly Updates, Memoir Musings and Max Moments:

“The Lessons of Grief”

Next Week:

Monday, 9/3/18:

“Our Stories Matter” featuring David Naiman’s middle grade novel  Jake, Lucid Dreamer. 

The Power of Dreams When Your Child is Addicted by Memoirist Elizabeth Silva

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler with Elizabeth Silva

Photo Credit: Matthew Prior, Brainy Quote

 

I often dreamt about my son when he was actively drinking and it was a reflection of my inner fears that were too hard to face in the light of day. He’s been sober now for the past five years but occasionally I dream about him relapsing and it fills me with terror, even today. Elizabeth captures the terror that parents of addicted children feel when they stand by helpless, yet hopeful that their child will survive.

Elizabeth is the author of a memoir, Another Cheesy Family Newsletter.

Welcome , Elizabeth!

Author Elizabeth Silva aka Patty Sisco

The Power of Dreams When Your Child is Addicted

I still remember the dream though it happened many, many years ago. … The dream, though sometimes fading like a wisp of smoke, still revisits me from time to time in one form or another and reminds me of the past. I don’t know much about the science of dreams except that I have a lot of crazy ones, and that the experts say they sometimes bring out tiny, buried details tucked away in our subconscious as the years pass…I will never forget this dream because it portrayed so intensely in precise, excruciating detail the fear and pain I had kept buried deep within me as I plowed through each day of my child’s dreadful heroin addiction, struggling to keep my sanity intact.

In this dream, I was walking into the foyer of a crumbling, neglected old apartment building like so many that provide the backdrop of TV detective shows and movies, as the SWAT team stealthily tiptoes in to bust another murderer, drug dealer, or gangster. The one difference between my dream and the TV cliché was the empty silence… As I glanced down, I saw that old white porcelain tile that looks like miniature chicken wire, and it was dirty, sticky, and cracked. The walls were covered with graffiti and who knows what other kind of filth, and unidentifiable trash had collected in the corners. But the most striking feature of the room was the lighting. It was a dim, eerie pale green that cast so many shadows throughout the area, I barely saw her standing all alone at the base of the stairs, leaning, almost sagging, against the newel post. She was wearing a short platinum wig and was dressed like a hooker. She WAS a hooker. Her micromini skirt revealed numerous bruises in various stages of healing on her still beautiful legs, and I knew that beneath her fake fur bolero her arms were scarred by track marks, a vestige of the habit that had turned her into this pitiful creature. Her face, though cast in shadow, was swollen from a black eye recently incurred at the hands of who knows who —boyfriend, pimp, dealer, john? All the above? Her complexion looked like the underbelly of a fish, sickly and white, with the slightest hint of green that almost glowed in the dark in that ghostly light. And her lips, full and blood-red, were the only hint of color in that other-worldly room. I could tell she didn’t want me to touch her the minute I walked in the door and started to approach her… So, I didn’t come any nearer, for fear that she would run away, though I so wanted to grab her hand and flee this horror show in any way possible. To drag her, if I had to, to sanity. But instead I just begged her to come with me. I pled with her to come with me. I gave her every reason that she should leave this hellhole and return to the warmth of her home and the child with the big, brown liquid eyes who so desperately wanted her mommy back. But reason is no longer a part of the addict’s psyche, and the pull of the poison is just too overwhelming, so she refused. She didn’t say a word – just slowly shook her now downcast head – over and over and over…

Photo Credit: Benjamin Lossius on Unsplash

Dreams are mostly visual experiences, but despite these images that remain clear in my mind, what I most remember was the actual physical pain…I don’t know how it feels to be stabbed, but the visceral pain that this emotional upheaval evoked seemed as intense as if she had produced a knife out of nowhere and plunged it in my belly. My sobs were so gut wrenching I doubled over and fell to my knees in helpless agony. The pain seemed so real … it WAS real. It was the manifestation of all the fear and anguish I had suppressed as I had tried to make it through each day. It was the crumbling face behind the mask I wore every day as I tried to be the strong, resilient woman everyone expected me to be. It was a grief so profound it brings tears to my eyes, even today. All the rage, disappointment, terror, regret, guilt, and crushing defeat that I just couldn’t express adequately in words were wrapped up in that dream. When I woke up I was exhausted and still aching from my sobs, still lingering in that half world between waking and sleeping, wondering if this incident had really occurred. But as the dream world faded and the real world stepped in, I realized that in my dream I had allowed myself to let go of my cover and just feel the naked pain. Her addiction was one of the few things over which I had no control, and the torture of helplessly watching my beautiful eldest child willingly fall into this dark chasm. with little hope of climbing out, could only be manifested in a dream. In the “real” world I could not abandon myself to this kind of self-indulgent grief for fear of never coming back. And I had to be a rock for her baby who just couldn’t understand why her mommy, who had once been her best friend, had become a stranger she rarely saw. So, I tucked the dream away safely in my subconscious and carried on as I always had… The memory of the dream and the intensity of the pain I experienced has burrowed into a little wrinkle in my consciousness like a tiny underground creature, and it pops out occasionally, in a flash of anger or doubt or fear, only to scurry quickly back to its hidey hole as I regain my composure. In perspective, I see it now as a reminder of how much we all love our children, even if we don’t like them anymore. It was a manifestation of the indescribable grief and helplessness I experienced when Kristine slipped out of our arms, and we realized we could no longer protect her as she stumbled along the path of self-destruction. I wouldn’t wish that pain on any parent, though way too many have shared it, and worse.

***

Thank you, Elizabeth  for sharing the raw pain of loving a child who is addicted. You show us how dreams can unlock the deep, painful  feelings the parent of an addicted child often buries.

***

About the memoir:

For decades, Elizabeth Silva has crafted an annual holiday newsletter to family and friends, summarizing her family’s year in light-hearted, witty prose. Little do her readers know, however, of the conflict and pain behind those season’s greetings full of optimism and cheer.

Another Cheesy Family Newsletter is a memoir covering a span of twenty years in Elizabeth Silva’s life, the years her oldest child struggled with mental illness and substance abuse. Contrasting with each chirpy letter is a narrative of the true, sometimes dark, events that really happened each year. Those stories, along with the family history that came into play in later years, present a picture of four generations of a family’s missteps and triumphs as they navigate the storms caused by addiction, co-dependence, and mental illness.

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07CSLY1GT

Apple iBooks

http://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1378750914

Barnes & Noble

https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/another-cheesy-…/1128583507

Google Play

https://play.google.com/store/books/details?id=aitZDwAAQBAJ

Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/…/ebo…/another-cheesy-family-newsletter

About the Author:

Elizabeth Silva grew up in a military family, living in multiple cities across the USA, then settled in Texas at age 17 where she attended college as an English major and developed a love of writing.

During her career as both a high school English teacher and a guidance counselor, she married , raised four children and is currently retired and living at home with her husband, son, two grandsons, two cats and a dog.

She is  community contributor for her local metropolitan newspaper and an advocate for public education and children with autism.

***

How about you? Have you worked out deep and painful feelings through your dreams?

We’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Monday, 8/27/18:

“When Do You Know Your Memoir is Finished?”

August 2018 Monthly Newsletter: Updates, Memoir Musings, Max Moments

“The Lessons of Grief”

If you are interested in receiving this monthly newsletter in your inbox, please sign up in the right sidebar. I’d love to have you along!

 

A Sacred and Tender Time: A Memoir Moment

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

“Loss and grief weave into our lives as the seasons pass, as plans are made, as love is shared.”~ Author Lisa Irish, Grieving-the Sacred Art:Hope in the Land of Loss

Photo Credit: Nick Silliman on Unsplash.com

A Sacred and Tender Time : A Memoir Moment

This post was supposed to have been a recap of the Writer’s Digest East Conference in New York City, a trip that was to be my maiden voyage into pubic transportation with dialysis equipment in tow.

But life, as it often does, had other plans, as I entered into sacred and tender territory with the illness and death of my beloved ninety-five –year-old mother Kathryn and I  cancelled my plans

The Gift of More Time…

Mom was diagnosed with lymphoma in October of 2015 at the age of ninety-two. On Halloween night, my daughter Leigh Ann and I held vigil at her hospital bedside and said our goodbyes….

but she didn’t leave us then. She responded to treatment and was able to resume her life at Brookdale, the assisted living facility she was admitted to in August of 2015. We labeled her our “Christmas miracle” as she donned a Santa hat and doled out gifts to the other residents. Soon after, she was named “ambassador” as she took all the new residents under her wing and counseled them about giving assisted living a chance.

The way I see it, we had almost three extra years after we thought we were saying goodbye. It was a gift. It turned put that within this nearly three-year period, Mom reached her full potential. She became  her own woman, the one God intended her to be.  Not just someone’s wife or mother, but an empowered woman, living life on her terms.   This had a double-edge to it as she  also in her feisty humanness, lost her filter  which led to a few cringe-worthy moments and lots of belly laughs!

Feisty Mom

But I knew all along that I would never be ready to say goodbye…

In June of 2018,  a chronic cough led to diagnostic tests which revealed progressive recurrent lymphoma.

On August 1, 2018 at 4;47, a golden heart stopped beating.Mom took her last breath as my sister Paula and I held her, my brothers surrounded her bed  and we all  gently coaxed her to let go.

Right now, I don’t have the words to adequately describe what she meant to me or the depth of the loss.

Nobody loves us like our mothers. Mom was my biggest cheerleader and my main go-to person.

I came across this quote: “The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.” 

 

She left us with many stories and by sharing them, we can keep her spirit alive.

Here are a couple..

Mom was such a great cook—and she loved to feed us—that she conditioned us to feel hungry the moment we opened the front door to step into the house. There was always something bubbling on the stove. Greens and beans, manaste (beans,cabbage &sausage), tomato sauce were some of our favorites. God forbid we stay hungry for too long!

Mom with her BFF, Inez, 99

When she went to assisted living at Brookdale, it was a tough transition but she was determined to power through it and make it work. Soon, she was named an “ambassador” by the facility because they witnessed how compassionate she was in helping others adjust. She also kept physically active and walked every day she was able. We called it the “Brookdale mile”. Pretty soon, she inspired others to get out of their chairs and walk with her. She was on a mission of mercy and she fulfilled it well.

 

 

 

A Celebration of Life…

There are plenty of reasons to celebrate her life and that is exactly what she wanted us to do. She lived long and she lived well and I know she will live on through all of us who were blessed with her presence in our lives.

Mom, April , 2018

How blessed I have been to have had her for all these years. But oh how I miss her…

I leave you with this 12-minute video that will give you a glimpse of her long and wonderful life. Fly with the angels, Mom. You’ve earned your angel wings.

 

And then, my brother Gary left us with these thoughts about the cycle of life when he read this poem he wrote:

Life Must Continue…A Message to the Next Generation

As our parents take their earthly leave, 

we children attend their legacy and take time to grieve.

Our hearts are filled with gaping holes,

we must avoid becoming lost souls.

Nothing in life will be the same.

We are  left grasping to give our feelings a name.

They want us to continue to live,

finding purpose for which to give.

A new generation begins its climb,

while we direct descendants pause and measure time.

Our parents were the hub of our loves.

It’s up to all of us to ensure the family thrives.

For someday it will be our turn to ascend to the ages,

while our children become the next generation’s sages.

***

Next Week:

Monday, 8/20/18:

“The Power of Dreams When Your Child is Addicted by Memoirist Elizabeth Silva”

Elizabeth is the author of Another Cheesy Family Newsletter,  a memoir covering a span of twenty years in Elizabeth Silva’s life , the years her oldest child struggled with mental illness and substance abuse.

My Journey to Memoir by Lyndon Back

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler with Lyndon Back

“ The worst part of holding the memories is not the pain. It’s the loneliness of it. Memories need to be shared.” 


― Lois Lowry, The Giver

Sarajevo, 1997

I am pleased to feature memoirist Lyndon Back in this post about her journey to her memoir, Treading Water at the Shark Cafe, published by Open Books Press on July 3, 2018. When I read her story about a Quaker woman who traveled to war-torn Yugoslavia to help young adult students,  I felt like I was in a movie.

My reviews can be found on Amazon, Goodreads, LibraryThings and RiffleBooks

Welcome Lyn!

Author Lyndon Back

My Journey to Memoir

Photo Credit: Unsplash Free

I started writing as soon as I got back from the war in Yugoslavia, trying to quiet the noises in my head. I wrote to clear a path through the anger and confusion I felt about the war, about my country bombing friends and colleagues. I wrote to ease my conscience. There was urgency in my writing, but no direction. I wanted people to know my story, and at the same time I found it almost impossible to tell the tale. Writing wasn’t the problem. Words poured onto the page like water gushing from a hose that’s been tightly coiled all winter in the cellar. But most of the words swirled around and disappeared in a puddle on the floor. I couldn’t get at the real story until I’d found a structure to hang it on.

Everything seemed important at first. There were no boundaries, or priorities, and I would sail my memories down every tributary that offered itself. At a writers’ workshop I learned to create story boards, made up of scenes and characters as I remembered them. Then I tried linking the scenes into creative narrative, and I learned you have to throw out your best writing, your favorite scene when it doesn’t move the story along. That was an important lesson and I had trouble sticking to it.

Belgrade in flames

Finding My Voice…

I couldn’t find my voice, or even who the story was supposed to be about. The young people I’d met during the war were constantly on my mind. I wanted to honor them. I thought the story should focus on them. But I was writing a memoir, so the story had to be about me as well. Then in another writing workshop about ‘telling the tale,’ I discovered there were several kinds of memoir, and I realized mine was an immersion memoir. While the setting was the war, and the focus was the young people, the structure of the story was my journey; how I took a leap of faith, left my safe and quiet life in suburban Philadelphia and landed in a war I knew very little about. I found myself, an American woman alone in a foreign country, trying to navigate in a broken society, destroyed by catastrophe and violence.

My journey was both spiritually and physically challenging, so there was already a built in expectation, a readymade dramatic arc. It was also clear I would learn something in my travels, and what I learned; about the war, about the young people, about the fascinating and complicated culture of Yugoslavia, and eventually about myself; those particulars would provide a bridge to a wider significance for the reader.

The young people were to be guides who moved the story along, brought drama and inspiration to the narrative. Their personalities and unique voices provided rhythm and tempo, which would rise and fall, speed up and slow down as their wants or needs or intentions became clear. It was musical in a way, especially in dialogue. If I described the characters vividly, gave them form and substance, the reader would care about them as I did.

I found my own voice as well, when I realized this was an immersion memoir. My voice was one of inexperience, of curiosity, of good intentions. Telling the tale in this voice of inexperience soon confronted a formidable barrier, the problem of self-censoring. I had to make decisions about what to reveal about myself and what to keep hidden. I had to ward off my insecurities about what people would think if I exposed my weaknesses, my vulnerabilities, and my less than heroic self. And yet I knew I had to be honest. Without authenticity the story would be wooden, without any heart, and nobody would connect or care about me or the outcome.

Unreliable Memories…

Then came the issue of memory, which is what memoir writing depends on. Memory is not always reliable; the facts spin round and round. I quickly discovered that memories are layered, and sometimes confused by more self-censoring, and the need to tell a good story. Memory is also difficult when you are dealing with historical events, with war, with trauma, with conflict, and especially with guilt. I could easily get lost in the descriptions of places I’d seen, the beautiful landscapes, the heartbreaking destruction, the feelings those scenes evoked in me. Yet too much detail could slow the story to a crawl, and lose the reader’s interest. Always there was temptation to skirt the darkest moments in writing, to make the story pretty, or at least presentable. I had to face myself and my characters without flinching. We were human, not idealized heroes, or victims.

Vedran and Zoran looking at the remains of Stari Most

I’d kept journals through the years, and I wrote constantly to friends and family while I was in former Yugoslavia, so I had many resources to stir my memory and recreate events, but often I would get lost in those letters and journals, overwhelmed by emotion. Sometimes when writing particularly painful memories, I would distort them, lose the thread in an attempt to analyze or over-explain. But memories don’t leave you. Painful memories and the voices of people I’d know in Serbia and Kosovo kept pushing me to write. What was I trying to say? What was the truth? What was the story really about?

Making it to the Finish Line…

The process of writing is not linear. It’s no surprise that it took me years to complete the manuscript. The first version, written soon after I got back to the U.S. was a stream-of-consciousness jumble. It was part of my healing process. At times I’d step away and distance myself from the sadness and guilt I felt about the war. For a few years I tried writing poems, essays, and short stories. All my projects circled the same themes: women traveling to foreign lands, young people, and war. Meanwhile my own story seasoned in the back of my mind, memories pushing at me, the kids wanting attention. Ideas came when I wasn’t thinking about writing. When I was washing dishes, or working in the garden. New ideas would bubble up, an insight, or a different perspective. I’d sit down again, energized and refocused to try and move the story forward. More than twenty years after the day I first saw the beautiful old bridge in Mostar, Bosnia blown to smithereens, which was the start of my journey, I finished the manuscript. Getting it published is a story for another day.

***

Thank you, Lyn for detailing your journey to memoir. You bring up many pertinent points about the rigors of  finding and writing the story that reflects your authentic self. Congratulations on the publication of  your compelling memoir,Treading Water at the Shark Cafe!

***

Book Synopsis:

Treading Water at the Shark Café is an American Quaker woman’s extraordinary journey of witness and discovery from her suburban Philadelphia home to the war zones of the former Yugoslavia. Set against a background of violence, her story focuses on young people—often forgotten in times of war—who lived outside the spotlight.

Like the Freedom Riders and the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee in the United States, the student activists in the former Yugoslavia envisioned a better world, taking incredible risks to make their dreams come true. Optimism, energy, and imagination conjure new possibilities, even in the midst of chaos. Told with honesty and deep conviction, this memoir will resonate with a growing audience of readers who are tired of political warmongering and share a longing for effective nonviolent alternatives.

Buy Links:

Amazon

Open Books Press

About the Author:

Lyndon Back received a B.A. in History from SUNY Oneonta, and an MPA from SUNY Albany. She holds a CELTA/TESOL certificate from the School of International Training in Brattleboro Vermont, and a certificate of competency in Serbian from the Azbukum Language School in Novi Sad, Serbia.

Lyndon served as Director of Planned Giving at the American Friends Service Committee from 1984 to 1998, where she was responsible for marketing, soliciting, and gift/estate planning. In 1998 Lyndon left the Service Committee to join the Balkan Peace Teams, an international consortium of European peace groups. She lived and worked in Belgrade, Serbia and Prishtina, Kosovo before during and after the NATO bombings, working with students who were seeking alternatives to violence. She worked with the youth group Otpor that was largely responsible for the nonviolent overthrow of Slobodan Milosevic in 2000.

In 1999 Lyndon returned to the U.S. and taught English as a Second Language at Delaware Valley Literacy Council, and Oral Communication at Harcum College. She served as Program Coordinator for Refugee Resettlement at Lutheran Children and Family Services in Philadelphia for seven years. Now semi-retired Lyndon’s writing continues to be influenced by her experience in former Yugoslavia. Her essays, articles, and poems have appeared in several literary and academic journals. “After the War, Notes from a Balkan Journey” appeared in Gemini Magazine. “Balloon Head” appeared in Forge.

Lyn can be reached on Facebook

***

How about you? If you are writing a memoir, how is your journey going?

We’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Monday, 8/13/18:

“A Sacred and Tender Time: A Memoir Moment”

 

Simplicity in Life: A WOW Blog Tour with Memoirist Jo Ann Simon

Posted by Kathleen Pooler /@kathypooler with JoAnn Simon/@ForgetMeNotJoSi

Truth is ever to be found in simplicity, and not in the multiplicity and confusion of things. ~Isaac Newton

Photo Credit: Free Google Images

Welcome to JoAnn Simon’s WOW Blog Tour for her new memoir, Rose Colored Glasses: A Memoir of Love, Loss , and Hope, the poignant story of how one woman stayed afloat, upbeat and connected to her husband while he was suffering from a debilitating illness through devotion, love and donning rose-colored glasses.

My reviews can be found on Amazon, Goodreads, LibraryThings and Riffle Books

 

Welcome, JoAnn!

Memoir Author Jo Ann Simon

 

Simplicity in Life

Simplifying life is one of the most satisfying efforts I have found. It is the euphoria after eating and drinking the most luscious, decadent five-course meal, but you ate only one long, slinky green bean. That sounds crazy and I’m not recommending only eating green beans; I’m illustrating how living with simplicity has the power to grow the inner peace of your life and happiness to give you a level of comfort that is life changing.

 

My simplicity in life started when I was grieving for the loss of my husband. It was hard to move forward in life with decisions to be made every day. One would think that deciding what to wear would be an easy decision. It is not if your mind is scrambled eggs. The easiest thing to do was choose one or two colors and just go with that so I didn’t have to decide every day. I started with white, a cloak of honor which also brightened my day and made me feel alive. Silver was a form of white, so that helped with some bling. Since I wore those Rose Colored Glasses, pink was my second choice of color.

 

Photo Credit: Unsplash Free

Life was so much easier. Everything and anything was pink, white or silver; no debate. Shoes, sandals, flip flops, panties, bras, pants, shorts, shirts, dresses, wallets, sunglasses, scarves, lipstick, pocketbook, computer case, wireless mouse, tablet, towels; all white or pink with or without bling. It sounds outrageous, but it worked and filled me with the serenity of simplicity.

 

I used to be a person who always wore jewelry of bracelets, necklaces, earrings, etc. that matched outfits. My new method of simplifying my life changed to wearing only starfish earrings, and a watch. The starfish is an energy sign, and symbolizes re-generation. That’s what I needed in my life. They help me every day to be stronger and not spend time deciding on what jewelry to wear. I did have a watch addiction, collecting over 100 of them, but now I have a small group that matches what I wear, and that is easier too. Now, I can be up in the morning, showered, dressed and out the door in fifteen minutes if necessary, and I am happy with how I look and feel.

 

Life is full of decisions to make every day which are opportunities to complicate or simplify. Stop for a minute and just think about how to simplify a decision, stick with it, and enjoy the results. I think you will be pleasantly surprised.

***

 

Rose Colored Glasses Synopsis:

Dear Tom, 

I’m back on Anna Maria Island… missing you.

But walking down these beautiful beaches reminds me of us and makes

me feel a little less far away from you. And that encourages me as I am writing our story.

Hopefully this will help other people who are feeling our pain too.

I love and miss you every day, darling.

Love, 

Me

When he first saw me, Tom said that he would spend the rest of his life with me. To my surprise, he actually did. He was the love of my life. We shared a story that felt like a dream. Every moment was an adventure… and then Tom became ill.As his mysterious symptoms persisted we were hurtled through a maze of fear, tests, doubts and sorrow. But while doctors toyed with diagnoses- Lyme disease, ALS- we filled each day with joy, hope, good food, wine, music and travel.Even when death came to crush our storybook romance, we found that the human spirit is greater than the frailties of the body, greater than suffering and grief.

From the fateful tick bite on Block Island to central nervous system failure, to healing my grief and loss, I stayed afloat, upbeat, and connected to Tom through devotion, true love, and by donning my own special pair of rose-colored glasses.

Paperback:  288 Pages

Publisher:  WiDO Publishing (May 29th 2018)

Language: English

ISBN-10: 1947966049

ISBN-13: 978-1947966048

   

About the Author: 

Jo Ann Simon, a corporate executive, is a lifelong nutmegger, living in various locations in the Nutmeg state of Connecticut. She is a constant traveler, exploring the world including her favorite country, Italy. When she is not traveling, Jo Ann loves spending time with her family, friends and her seven grandchildren. Her day job running a company, painting fine art, gardening and writing fill in the blanks of her life. Palm trees are essential in her personal landscape with beaches to match.

Find JoAnn Online:

Website: https://www.joann-simon.com/

Blog: https://forgetmenotjosi.wordpress.com/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/ForgetMeNotJoSi

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/joannsimonauthorpage/

LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/jo-ann-simon-27626518/

Instagram: forgetmenotjosi

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WOW Blog tour Dates:

Monday, July 23rd @ The Muffin

Author Interview and Giveaway

http://muffin.wow-womenonwriting.com

Tuesday, July 24th @ JoAnn Simon

Crystal Casavant-Otto reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon – don’t miss this opportunity to learn more about JoAnn’s touching memoir.

https://forgetmenotjosi.wordpress.com/

Wednesday, July 25th @ Bring on Lemons with Michelle DelPonte

Wisconsin mother, wife, and autism advocate Michelle DelPonte reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon and shares her thoughts with readers at Bring on Lemons. This is an unforgettable memoir!

http://bringonlemons.blogspot.com/

Thursday, July 26th @ Beverley Baird

Beverley Baird reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon. This touching memoir is one readers won’t soon forget! You’ll want to add this one to your #TBRPile today!

https://beverleyabaird.wordpress.com/

Friday, July 27th @ Choices

The readers at Madeline Sharples blog, Choices, are in for a special treat today as JoAnn Simon pens the guest post “Seeing Art Through the Artist’s Eye”. Readers can enjoy this post while also learning about Simon’s memoir “Rose Colored Glasses” recently published by WiDO Publishing.

http://madelinesharples.com/

Monday, July 30th @ Selling Books with Cathy Stucker

Cathy Stucker interview JoAnn Simon about her recently published memoir “Rose Colored Glasses”

https://www.sellingbooks.com/

Tuesday, July 31st @ World of My Imagination

Nicole Pyles reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon and shares her thoughts with readers at World of My Imagination. Don’t miss a chance to learn about this memoir of love and loss.

https://theworldofmyimagination.blogspot.com/

Thursday, August 2nd @ Memoir Writer’s Journey

Today’s post at Memoir Writer’s Journey includes a guest post titled “Simplicity in Life” written by JoAnn Simon. There is also a link to Kathleen Pooler’s review of Simon’s recently published memoir “Rose Colored Glasses”. Readers won’t want to miss this opportunity to learn more about Simon and her lovely memoir.

https://krpooler.com/

Tuesday, August 7th @ Bring on Lemons

Today’s author spotlight at Bring on Lemons is JoAnn Simon featuring her recently published memoir “Rose Colored Glasses”. Don’t miss a chance to learn about Simon and check out Crystal’s review of this touching memoir.

http://bringonlemons.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, August 8th @ Lisa Haselton

Lisa Haselton interviews JoAnn Simon about her memoir “Rose Colored Glasses” (and more)!

http://lisahaseltonsreviewsandinterviews.blogspot.com/

Wednesday, August 8th @ Margo Dill

Today’s guest author is JoAnn Simon of “Rose Colored Glasses” – and today’s topic is “A Positive Attitude”. Don’t miss this blog stop!

http://margodill.com/blog/

Monday, August 13th @ Write Happy

Catherine Brown reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” a touching memoir by JoAnn Simon.

https://www.writehappy.net/blog

Monday, August 13th @ Coffee with Lacey

Lacey reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon. Don’t miss the opportunity to learn more about this inspirational memoir about love, loss, and hope!

https://coffeewithlacey.wordpress.com/

Thursday, August 16th @ Ellen Valladares

Fellow author Ellen Valladares reviews “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon.

https://ellenvalladares.com/

Wednesday, August 22nd @ Linda Appleman Shapiro

Fellow memoirist Linda Appleman Shapiro shares her thoughts after reading “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon.

http://applemanshapiro.com/category/book-reviews/

Thursday, August 23rd @ Bring on Lemons with Cathy Hansen

Wisconsin educator, mother, and business owner Cathy Hansen reviews the memoir “Rose Colored Glasses” by JoAnn Simon.

http://bringonlemons.blogspot.com/

 

***

How about you? Do you strive for simplicity in your life?

We’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

***

Next Week:

Monday, 8/6/18:

“My Journey to Memoir by Lyndon Back”

Lyn is the author of Treading Water at the Shark Cafe, an American Quaker woman’s extraordinary journey of witness and discovery from her suburban Philadelphia home to the war zones of the former Yugoslavia.

 

 

Choosing the Right Title for Your Memoir

Posted by Kathleen Pooler/@kathypooler

“Next in importance to books are titles.” ~Frank Crane

Photo Credit: Free Image from Pixabay

Choosing the Right Title for Your Memoir

We all know that a book’s title needs to pack a punch right away.No matter how great our story may be, it will be the title that catches the attention of the reader.

The book’s title is a promise to our readers.

When I think of my own reading habits and what goes into my decision to read a new book, I know the title matters.

My Story…

Over the course of the twenty years I have been writing my current memoir, I have accrued many different titles:

To Lovingly Detach: A Mother’s Journey Through Her Son’s Addiction

The Edge of Hope: A Mothers Journey Through Her Son’s Addiction

Daring to Hope: A Mother’s Journey Through Her Son’s Addiction.

Hope is indeed a main thread in my narrative and yet I wanted to find a title that would make me stop in my tracks and say, “Aha!”,especially since the trajectory of my story took on a new twist with the diagnosis of cancer in the midst of my son’s addiction, leading to the narrative question :

How does one handle simultaneous life-threatening battles and come out on the other side?

The title needs to give a glimpse of the book’s main message or theme without giving the whole story away all at once.

That happened with my first memoir, Ever Faithful to His Lead: My Journey Away From Emotional Abuse during an open mic reading of an excerpt at a IWWG writer’s conference at Drew University in Madison, New Jersey in 2013.

I was waiting for that same “aha ” moment with this memoir and it came at a most unexpected moment during another open mic reading of an excerpt of my current memoir at the same writing conference at Muhlenberg College in Allentown, Pennsylvania in July, 2018.

Drum roll…

Just the Way He Walked: A Mother’s Story of Healing From Cancer and Her Son’s Alcohol Addiction

In both cases the right title came from my writing. The story revealed my title.

These are the questions I am asking myself:

* Is the title catchy?

* Does the title strike at the heart of my story?

* Does my title reveal my promise to the reader?

* Does the title create interest for the reader?

Here’s why it feels right:

It resonates with a main thread in my story of a young man who struggles with the absence of a strong father figure in his life.

It highlights the mother’s perspective of fearing her son will turn into his father, the alcoholic.

It underscores the heart of my story that addiction is passed on through the generations and is a force to be reckoned with.

The subtitle focuses on the overall narrative arc of hope and healing through simultaneous life threatening challenges.

***

The title guides the journey

Now that I have a title that fits the vision I have for my memoir, I can develop a marketing plan that aligns with my memoir’s main theme.

For example, I can generate topics of interest for guest posts or speaking engagements after the book is published.

Now, the next important decision will be the book cover.

 

 

***

How about you? Do titles matter to you as a reader? As a writer, how do you decide on your book’s title?

I’d love to hear from you. Please join in the conversation below~

 

***

This Week:

Monday, 7/30/18:

July 2018 Monthly Newsletter: Updates, Memoir Musings and Max Moments

“The Freedom to Choose”

If you are interested in receiving this monthly newsletter in your inbox, please sign up in the right side bar. I’d love to have you along!

Thursday, 8/2/18:

“Simplicity in Life: A WOW Blog Tour with Memoirist Jo Ann Simon.”

Jo Ann is the author of Rose Colored Glasses: A Memoir of Love, Loss and Hope, the poignant story of how one woman stayed afloat, upbeat and connected to her husband while he was suffering from a debilitating illness.

Next Week:

Monday, 8/6/18:

“My Journey to Memoir by Lyndon Back”

Lyn is the author of Treading Water at the Shark Cafe, an American Quaker woman’s extraordinary journey of witness and discovery from her suburban Philadelphia home to the war zones of the former Yugoslavia.