You know, it’s a really cool feeling to get a stack of vellum sheets in the mail with the instructions to autograph them for inclusion in the first twenty copies of my novel to sell. My novel, in print. Next month.
So why do I burst into tears?
Lots of reasons.
In the last six months, I’ve been to three funerals for members of my family. Two of them were children.
How can I understand why one man lives to be over eighty, and one doesn’t quite make it to eighteen, and one only lives for one hour? Yes, one hour! All three touched me deeply. One was like a father to me, one was a young man whom love for my daughter had brought into my family, and one was a great nephew whom I only knew as a wiggle in my niece’s tummy.
And my mother is fading into the grasp of Alzheimer’s and my real father has incurable cancer.
So that’s probably why my next two releases are all about death and pain and ghosts. But they’re also about healing and love and peace.
I’m going to sign those twenty copies: M. Raiya. May healing always surround you.
But I’ll probably keep crying for a long time.
