Hi! Lindi here.
Welcome to the last day of July. Oh, where has this month gone? And of course, happy Monday! I’d like to give a shout out to Colleen who won the novellas from my post last month. I hope you like reading about my ‘Single Dads Next Door.’ They were so fun to write about.
Now for July reading confession. I’m reading a new book club pick, Flight Patterns by Karen White. What an amazing author. I always keep a Karen book on my desk. When I get stuck, I read a passage or two of hers for sheer inspiration. On a drier note, I guess, my non-fiction book was Better Health in 120 days by Dr. Glen Aukerman. My dad, who is fighting cancer, had this book on the table next to his chair. I started reading it while I was visiting him and ended up taking it home. Not sure I’m glad I read it or not. It’s worth a reread if you want to take it all in, but reading about food and what is what ends up being confusing and sad for me. Not much is good for us. BUT, I will not focus this post on that. I’ve surprised myself at my non-fiction reading. I’ve started another non-fiction book, Goliath Must Fall by Louie Giglio.
So, now that housekeeping is out of the way, onto the good stuff, right? (At least I hope it’s good.)
One of my fav authors just had a new book release. Pattie Callahan Henry, The Bookshop at Water’s End. Pattie is an amazing lady, and an amazing author. I love her style of writing. Love, love it.
There are certain times, and having one of my favorite authors release a book is one of them, when I start reflecting on my own writing, my own stories. I, in some ways, always feel like I’ve fallen short. Like I’ve missed the mark. And this is not about another author writing “better” than me. We all have our own voice. It’s more about how much I feel I’m “putting into the book” if that makes sense. I feel that if I write a book, and I’m unchanged, then have I really put everything into the story that I could have? I have no idea why I feel like I need to be wiped out after finishing a novel. I’ve certainly never heard that taught in a workshop.
But, it’s probably more of a conscious thing for me.
Hopefully not a guilty one.
But the questions remain: How much of me am I putting into each book I write? Can I pour more of my soul into the story? Do I have skeletons lurking inside of me that I don’t want to put on the page? Do each of us have a break-out type of story embedded in us waiting to be revealed?
These questions just aren’t for authors. They are for everyone in every aspect of what we do in life. How real are we? How invested are we in what we do, what we share? Can sharing a part of ourselves bring light into someone’s life?
The book I’ve read that I was most emotional about was Redeeming Love, by Francine Rivers. I cried for days after reading that book. Not a bad cry, but a good cry. I still cry talking about the book. Now, I will admit, part of the emotion was from a writerly stand point. I knew at what point I was going to lose it. I don’t want to give anything away, but the realizations in the book are life changing. Also, Meg Moseley’s book, When Sparrows Fall had the same type of feel at the end, a washing of the soul if you know what I mean.
I have a couple of questions for us readers today. Have you read a book that had you emotionally spent? How do you feel after reading a book like that? Do you want to read a more light-hearted story after? (I write light-hearted stories, so I’m good with that!) Have you ever felt disappointed after reading a book? We don’t need to state the book, just curious if you’ve ever felt like an author could have invested more of who they were to tell the story. (And this is so subjective, I know.)
Thanks in advance for your comments.