Manic Monday: What's Up Natalie?

I'm not sure if I actually have any regular faithful readers of this blog who read what I post here. Or if the thousands of "hits" each month are bots.  But I'm writing this post in faith that there are some actual human beings who read what I write here.

So if you are a human being reading this and if you have read my blog for a while, you may have noticed that over the past year or so (*scratches head and says "Has it really been that long?"*) I have been inconsistent in posting. Yeah, I've posted Writer Wednesday spotlights of other writers. Sure, there have been some Sci Fi Friday posts. And yes, there have been posts about my most recent release (Emily's Heart).

But when is the last time I wrote a Manic Monday post? I can't remember.

Anyway, I have reasons (numerous) that I've been lax in my blogging. Some are lame, like feeling like since no one comments much on my blog that I may in fact be visited solely by Internet bots rather than real people so what's the point in writing? Or that I was busy - blah, blah, blah.

But mainly I've been lax with my blogging because I've been dealing with some heavy shit in my life.

"What kind of heavy shit?" you ask.

First, there was my retirement from the practice of law in June of last year. You may be thinking that such an event should have freed up time for me to blog my brains out. And that's logical.  But in truth, saying good-bye to my profession was a major life-change event which I'd wanted for sooooo long and was glad for but when it actually happened sort of took me by surprise at being sad about it. In recent years I had worked (very) part-time at being a lawyer and had stopped taking litigation cases so I wasn't in court. It had become a small part of my life taking third seat to being a mom (always first) and my writing. But still, it had been a major part of my life - and my identity - for over twenty years (saying that makes me feel fucking old).

My very wise husband who knows me sometimes too well warned me. "Give yourself six months, Natalie." I rolled my eyes and let his words of wisdom go in one ear and out the other (as I do too frequently). "Whatever," I thought. 

Guess what happened? He was right. (Don't you hate it when your mate is right?) It indeed took me about six months to fully release the old job and identity and to get into a new routine and be okay with the whole thing. It was like for the second half of last year, I'd get up and get my kid off to school then sit at my desk and play at being a writer, all the while feeling guilty that I wasn't really "working" or having anxiety that somehow I was neglecting some serious shit that needed done, and then feeling worse because I was feeling down about retiring to write full-time when so many writers I know don't have the opportunity to do that though they want to, so get over yourself all ready and be fucking happy! I wasn't happy and then felt guilty about not being happy.

But wait, there was more. And this is the heavy stuff that as I writer I feel I should be writing about and talking about but mainly I want to just ignore it and hope it goes away. At the end of the summer last year, my mom was diagnosed with cancer.

For the fifth time.

And it's bad. Really bad. Like the oncologist using the word "palliative chemo" kind of bad.

As if that weren't heavy enough, on the heels of us finding out about my mom's cancer, my dad had a stroke. He has been in and out (mostly in) a nursing home ever since. He's alive, but extremely diminished.

My mom is only 73. My dad 76.

They aren't that old. And I've had to face the fact over the past six months that it is more likely than not that neither of my parents will make it to the age of 80. In fact, it is quite possible that one of them will be gone before the end of the year.

I just typed that without crying. For months I could not have.

The story of my mom's cancer is actually one of hope and of sort-of miracles and of human strength and endurance. It's a story of pain and relationships and love and family. It's a story that could educate others with the BRCA1 gene (my mom is BRCA1 positive). It's a story that many may relate to and find interest in.

But I'm not able to write it. At least not now.

When I first found out my mom's dire diagnosis, my writer friends said "write about it." It was good advice. And I tried.

Some people can wrest poetry from pain. I'm not one of them.

Grief shuts me down. Sorrow makes me withdraw to the within. And try as I might to exorcise it through words, it does not work.

I was able to complete my third novel and maybe I did channel some of my pain into the prose. Emily's Heart is, after all, an Apocalyptic story that tends to the darker side of things. But *spoiler alert* the end is a happy one and I was stuck for months last year, unable to wrest that happy ending out of myself because I did not feel happy. The fact that it finally came out of me at all is a sort of small miracle that I can't explain.

Over the past nine months or so, my writing was filled mainly with anger and angst, heartache and unhappiness.

So I spared you all of that and kept my blog a cancer and sickness-free zone. 

The good news is that as this year progresses, I'm feeling more and more able to write without it being filled with misery. The shadowy veil of sad feelings is lifting and I'm more focused on the here and now - on the living - than on things past.

I'm in the mood to celebrate. I wrote three books!! Can I hear a woot, woot?! I completed a whole series (The Akasha Chronicles). *Does happy dance*

I am an incredibly blessed person to be able to devote my working hours full-time to doing what I love to do. I get to write the stories that fill my head. And I get to go out to book events and meet readers and chat story with them (one of my absolute favorite pastimes).

I have a wonderful daughter, husband and three furry critters that I share my house and life with. And I am alive, and this is no small miracle.

So as I move with more hope and optimism than I've had in a while into the middle of this year, here is what's coming on my blog and in my writing:

Natalie Wright, Manic Monday

1. Manic Monday will return! I don't promise that I'll have a Manic Monday post every week, but I am feeling the itch to speak my *manic* mind so stay tuned for my rants, ravings, musings and Monday weirdness.

2. Writer Wednesday is here to stay. In the past, I have devoted Wednesdays to featuring other writers and occasionally to posting writing tips. Both of those things will continue to happen on Wednesdays. (If you are a writer and would like to be featured on my Writer Wednesday, please shoot me an e-mail to NatWritesYA (at) gmail (dot) com and we'll speak of it).

But I also have a new feature that I'll add to Writer Wednesday in upcoming weeks that will appeal to writers of all makes, models and types - and will get the writerly conversation going.

3. Sci Fi Friday continues. For any of you paying attention, you may have noticed my new Friday feature, Sci Fi Friday. These posts are about scientific discoveries that I come across that strike me as having science fiction implications. I also reserve that time to review science fiction books or movies, OR generally to post anything science of science fiction related.

H.A.L.F., by
Natalie Wright
Arrives Spring, 2015

I'll continue to devote Fridays to all things science and sci fi as I gear up to release the first book of my next series, H.A.L.F., a young adult science fiction series. While my last series was (mainly) fantasy, I'll be writing science fiction (mostly) for the foreseeable future AND science stuff fascinates me. So if you, too, enjoy hearing about science fact that seems more like science fiction, then make sure you hang out with me on Fridays to discuss new technology and scientific discoveries. 

So that's what's up with Natalie. What's up with you? Drop me a line in the comments below or you can reach me by e-mail at NatWritesYA (at) gmail (dot) com.

Thank you for reading to the end :-)

5 Hawk Review of The Fault in Our Stars by John Green

I read this in one sitting, was up half the night, and went through a half a box of tissues. You WILL cry. And not just because this is a book about teenagers with cancer (it is) and not because John Green uses emotionally manipulative author tricks to pull the cry out of you (he doesn't - thank you John - 'cause I hate books that do that). You will cry because of the masterful way that John Green weaves a story full of love. You won't just cry when people get sick or when they talk about death (you will). But you'll maybe cry during tender parts where the love between Hazel and Augustus (Gus) is so real and so huge and so beautiful that you are filled with such appreciation for it that all you can do is cry. And you'll cry because Hazel understands the suffering of her parents. And you'll cry because of the amazing lover Hazel's small family has for each other.

But you won't just cry. You'll laugh too, sometimes maybe even out loud. John is his usual super-smart witty self and the repartee between Hazel and Gus is sometimes wickedly dark  and funny. And then you throw Isaac into the mix and the three-way conversation is delicious.

Many loved Green's Looking for Alaska. I did not love that book. I liked it fine, but honestly I felt that it tried too hard and was pretentious. That book made me a fan of John Green, but not a mega fan.

The The Fault in Our Stars tackles some of the same issues as Looking for Alaska but with so much more maturity and grace, that I can hardly believe it is by the same writer (except that it most certainly is - Green's unique voice is here and familiar to Green fans). But Green has had time to mature, both as a writer and a person, and I don't think you could ask for better treatment of such a tough and emotional subject as Green's tender hand in The Fault in Our Stars.

Given that the book deals with death, and the inevitability that one feels from the start that a death will happen (it is a book about cancer after all), the book appropriately discusses existential questions: What is the point of all this? Is there a God? Is there life after death? I got the sense that John Green argued this theme with himself by way of three characters: Hazel,  Gus and a cynical author Peter Van Houten. There's little to no attempt here on the part of the author to tell us what to think or provide some grand answer (though perhaps through Hazel's father's simple yet profound statements on the topic we get as close as we can to an answer). And to address a topic like this and not provide grand statements and "answers" takes a hand of restraint on the part of an author. I think this hand of restraint can only be exercised by an experienced author at the top of his game.

My only fault with the whole book is that Hazel does not sound like a 16 year old girl - she sounds like John Green pretending to be a 16 year old girl. But just a few pages in, you'll forget that she sounds like John Green because you're so invested in her and Gus and the other characters that you'll forgive this one little fault.

If I could give more than five stars I would. This is a knock out of the park homerun of a book.
Thank you John Green for writing it.

5+ Hawks