Why “Finding My Voice”? (part one)

The book came first, and then the title.

Seriously.

I was writing a memoir and at the same time was wondering why I was even doing it. I was afraid that if I told my truth, it would get me into hot water with some people. If I told my story, some people would think I was out to destroy them, or make them look bad, or somehow color myself as the faultless victim of some horrendous abuse.

Or something.

But back to the book. I was in a cute little coffee shop in the delightful small town of Spruce Pine, NC. I had the book almost done and was frantically trying to come up with the title.

And I had a conversation.

“I don’t really even know why I am writing this book. It is hard writing, and it is even harder reading. I am not even sure I would read this book.”

We sipped our coffee and I took in the sights and sounds and smells of the coffee shop and absently watched the train across the road.

“I will tell you why you are writing this book,” the friend I was hanging out with said presently.

“What? Tell me.”

“You are going to be writing more books than this one. People are going to want to know who this character is who wrote all these books. This book will be your introduction.”

Sitting there in that coffee shop, I had no idea how I would even get one book done, let alone another, or another…

So my friend left to go home and I turned my attention to my book in progress. I read, for the maybe fiftieth time the account of where I heard the Voice of God answer some questions I had about… life.

Suddenly, as if by inspiration, I knew I had the title of this book. It would be Finding My Voice.