The Forward Path

Hi boys and girls! It’s that time again! Time for another PostSwap. This time with another friend I’ve recently met from Writers Village University, a great place to just hang out and an even better place to go learn something about the craft of writing.

Today’s post comes from Leona Pence. You’ll find me posting over on her blog, but stay here first. Read what she has to say. Put up your feet and grab that coffee. It’s a good post.

Leona sort of does her own introduction with this piece, so I’ll leave you here, in her capable hands.

Michael out.

The Forward Path

There are some days you never forget. The day you get your first kiss; the day you get married; the birth of your first child—then your first grandchild. And there are the darker days, too. Your first heartbreak. The first time you lose your job, or a friend. January, 8, 2006, is a date forever etched in my mind. It was the day my husband of forty-four years succumbed to lung cancer. My story starts from that point forward. I never thought I’d survive a year without him, but here I am, seven and a half years later. I’ve changed so much over the past few years. I’m stronger, more confident, and not shy anymore about speaking my mind. My children call me a stubborn, opinionated, know-it-all, but they love me anyway.

What they say about one door closing and another opening has proven to be true for me. I’m a firm believer that people cross your path for a reason, be it for a day, or a lasting friendship. After I lost my Ren, I became a night owl and sat in front of my computer for hours chatting with a few friends. It was the only way I kept my mind from replaying his death over and over. When I finally made it to bed, I slept well.

One friend gave me a link to a pen pal site. Writing to strangers was no easy task, but those people became lasting friends and, in turn, introduced me to others. Sandie and Robin are two of those online acquaintances that soon became my friends. Laughter was constant whenever we got to chatting. We joked around often.

One night we decided we wanted to create our alter-egos and be heroines in a humor story. We twisted our names, projected ourselves back in age, and each described a love interest. I used the information to write a story. I had never really written anything before, but the story kept growing. Words flowed, plot twists came to me in my dreams, and my novel was born.

Both Robin and our friend Jo have Multiple Sclerosis. And, even though I was free from the difficulties of that particular condition, they were kind enough to adopt me into their MS support group. The people in the group became my sounding board and cheering squad. Every week, I’d send them an installment of my growing story. And God forbid if it arrived late. Many times, I wanted to give up, but then I’d get emails asking what happened to the next installment. It was exactly the support and encouragement that I needed, not only to write, but to recapture some of the joy I had lost.

One of the members asked me to put him in my novel. He became Mayor Hemphill and inspired my title, Hemphill Towers. Everybody recognized their twisted names. In fact, all the characters in my book were inspired by somebody. The story made my family laugh as they picked out names I’d used. My brother, Larry Harmston, became Judge Lawrence Harmstrong. My nephew, Eric Barrish, became Dr. Eric Barrisher. Funny, huh?

In three months time, I finished writing the book. It was in fifteen installments. I had no intentions of having my novel published until people began to push me in that direction. One day, while looking on the pen pal site, I saw a post that drew my attention: Writers wanted, young or old. Beginners welcome. We will critique your work.

It was a writing forum, and I joined it. Scared of my own shadow, I merely lurked and read other people’s posts. I didn’t know what a “thread” was, except the kind that wound on a spool. Eventually I posted a couple of chapters and received good feedback. A moderator in the forum gave me a link to F2K—a free writing course—somewhere she said had helped her.

She thought it might help me.

I clicked the link and looked it over, deciding I was too old and had been away from school far too long to even try. The moderator was not a happy camper. She said, “Don’t you dare use your age as an excuse. It’s free! What can you lose by trying?” So I meekly clicked the button registering me for the next installment of the course, not realizing It was, literally, a big turning point in my life.

Johnty was my Mentor for my first session, but Maruxa, his intern, took me under her wing and helped me immensely. By my third session of F2K, I was fearless. I signed up for a fourth session, but in the first week, a Mentor needed to step down for personal reasons, and I was asked to take her classroom. I hesitated briefly when the email request came, but a little voice in the back of my head said, “Do it, Leona, do it or you’ll regret it.”

Writing has created a path I never imagined I’d find for myself. It began on the worst day I can remember, but has since added so many memorable dates to the events of my life. And, now, here I am. My first book is due out late this summer, and I’m a writing mentor with my own classroom at F2K; it still boggles my mind. I am living proof, that no matter how dark things may seem, and no matter how old you get, life still holds challenges worth facing, and memories worth creating.

Bio:

Leona Pence is a lifelong resident of Illinois. She’s a widowed mother of four, grandmother of twelve, and gr-grandmother of two. She can usually be found in front of her computer writing, reading, chatting, or playing online pool.

Be sure to check out her blog. It’s available here: leonaschatter.blogspot.com/p/blog-page.html

Look for her new book, Hemphill Towers, available summer of 2013, from MuseItUp Publishing

Leona’s also has a short story included in the anthology Bump Off Your Enemies, available on Amazon.

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