Wednesday, July 13, 2011
I've always like to write, from the time I could, really. Poems for my mom when I was little, to broody angsty songs and poetry in my teen years, to articles for the school paper and yearbook in my college days.
My novel writing began with death, which may or may not have an impact on why I write about death so often. Many of you have probably already heard this story, but I'll repeat it for my new followers. My mother-in-law was diagnosed with late stage cancer late 2001. Rather than have her spend her last days in a nursing home, I quit my job and my husband and I took her in and cared for her with the help of hospice and family.
Her doctor said she had six months to a year to live. She has also suffered a stroke a few years before, so she couldn't speak, and had to be fed through a tube in her stomach. I sang to her, fed her, sat with her. It was a rewarding experience. Unfortunately, she only lasted three weeks.
Before quitting my job, my husband and I decided I would not go back to work after her death. So I had time, and I was grieving, and I needed something to do, so I started my first novel. It was titled Dena Powers: Superhero?
I'll continue the story next Wednesday.
Thanks for reading.
My Dad. He's awesome.
John Messina, Personal Injury Attorney