Words to Turn Your Day Around

Leila was a highschool English teacher most of her life before hitting the big time with her novel, Roses. Thanks to a serendipitous encounter, she has been coaching me for several years now. She’s the one who encouraged me to leave my thrillers behind and write Red Mountain. And she’s the only one allowed to absolutely tear me apart with criticism of my craft, and that’s a testament to her incredible talent and skill as a teacher. She’s somehow able to candidly point out my many weaknesses while also filling my cup with volcanic encouragement. I’ll occasionally send her a paragraph or two from my work in progress, and we’ll spend an hour on the phone breaking down every nuance. I liken these lessons to a young basketball player lucky enough to get court time with Michael Jordan.

In addition to her mastery of language and her prowess as a teacher, she’s an all-around superb human, who never stops giving. I aspire to live such a life. She’s currently battling stage 4 pancreatic cancer, but as you’ll read below in her recent Facebook post and her advice to me, she’s winning–in more ways than one.

Today marked my return to the chemo chair after a week off and a visit with Dr. G. who instantly proclaimed when he saw me, “Chemo is going gangbusters on that tumor!” From the look in his eye, I believe he preferred to say that the new, more aggressive protocol was kicking my cancer’s butt, but either he felt I was too much a lady to hear such words or he was too much a gentleman to utter them, but the gist was plain and clear.

Well, for a moment there, I felt in the beam of a heavenly light. Who wouldn’t, having been diagnosed with stage 4 pancreatic cancer, even if the patient did not know from whence the source came?

But we know, you and I, and I am home now with my knight in shining armor basking in the hope and utter faith that with your continued prayers, good wishes, and loving thoughts, I am on my way to full recovery. And when this journey is over, I hope I will be like the man in Nina Castain’s poem who lost an arm fighting for his country. Not his sacrifice, but his determination to “set himself to do everything with twice as much enthusiasm.” Nina concludes by writing, “And where the arm had been torn away, a wing grew,” and so I wish it true of me and of all of us who have prevailed against the odds.

Okay, I could stop right there, and we all walk away stronger than we were before. But I want to add a story about how she pulled me out of the mire. Despite the war she’s fighting, she’s given up her precious time in the past few weeks to coach me.

I’ve written three books in the last fourteen months, and it just about killed me. Despite it all, though, my muse fed me in such lovely ways, and I am super proud of each of them. I couldn’t have done any better.

But the day I sent Red Mountain Burning  to my editor, I broke down. A crippling exhaustion suddenly pummeled me to the ground. It didn’t help that my dog was diagnosed with kidney disease during the last writing sprint, a fact I didn’t allow myself to truly process until I’d finished. I spent the majority of December mindlessly stumbling through life. Thankfully I’ve come out of my trance, and I owe much of my awakening to… you guessed it… Leila Meacham.

Though my own struggle pales in comparison to hers, Leila has been there for me. A few days ago, I sat down to begin my new novel for Lake Union, which is due in August. For the first time that I can remember, in both writing songs and novels, I came up blank. My right brain was completely shut down, and I was overthinking everything. It’s a very scary feeling to be a writer who suddenly has no stories or words. That’s where Leila came in.

I’d written her about the seeds of my new story and mentioned that I was struggling to come up with the details. I was inundated with left-brained questions like which gender to start with, what kind of story would be best for the market, how to balance the internal and external struggles/goals/arcs, and on and on.

Leila wrote me a note back that ended with:

I once read a wonderful line: “Happiness is like a butterfly. Chase it and it runs away. Sit quietly, and it will light upon your shoulder.” So it is I believe with the creative muse.

I closed my computer and wept like a child.

My analytical considerations were necessary but come second to the gift of a story and the words a writer receives when connecting to the source. We all have different ways of defining and naming “the source,” but I suspect you know what I’m talking about.

I’m writing this to you from a place of happiness and excitement, as I see the light on the other side. I’m breaking free of my chains. I’m focusing on the things that matter. I’m sitting quietly. I realized that I’d abandoned my daily meditation practice, and I’m thankful to my agent for introducing me to the 10% Happier app, which has set me back on track. I’m walking and breathing in the wonder of the world. I’m reconnecting with my wife and son. I’m remembering the importance of giving. I’m practicing gratitude. I’m exercising. I’m eating and drinking mindfully. I’m playing tons of electric guitar with the volume knob dimed (sorry, honey). I’m reading like crazy, bathing in the bliss of words! And lastly, I’m writing again, starting with this note to you. My words are starting to bubble up, and, oh boy, do I feel a story coming.

I hope Leila’s teachings help in your journey. I feel even better after sharing.

May we all grow wings,

boo