Hello!
As some of you may already know, I'm stoked beyond words right now because one of my favorite things is about to happen: NaNoWriMo.
Before I say more about it, let me ask you this. Have you ever, even a little bit, said to yourself 'You know, I'd really love to write a book someday."? (Same question applies if you can answer 'yes' to 'screenplay', 'short story', 'memoir', etc.). Have you ever read a book and been really annoyed by it and thought 'I could write a better book than that, dammit!"?
If you have this dream lingering in the back of your mind, poking its little head out now and then, NaNoWriMo is the way to make it happen.
NaNoWriMo stands for 'National Novel Writing Month', and it happens every November. In a few days' time, around half a million people will gather together at the NaNoWriMo site (www.nanowrimo.org), and will endeavor to write a novel (50,000 words) in 30 days. A vast quantity of them have never written a novel before. And, btw, all the resources and tools and signing up, it's all free.
What's that you say? You think this is all crazy talk?? No sir. Well, maybe. But only in the most awesome, amazing, life-changing way.
Yep, I said it. Life-changing. Because it changed my life.
I'd always thought about writing a novel, ever since I was a little girl. I came close a couple of times, but always talked myself out of such silliness. Then, in 2010 I began one, inspired by my genealogical research. I wrote here and there, agonized over each paragraph trying to make it perfect, and got frustrated by how little progress I was making. I've been a writer of one sort or another all my life, and in my professional life have written journal articles, book chapters, and even a research-based non-fiction book. But this novel thing...well...it was different. And it was hard.
Then, in October 2012, a friend of mine mentioned something she called 'NaNo', and explained it to me. I figured, why not? It will kick me in the tushie, get me to really put a spotlight on pulling this novel together once and for all. Give me a reason to prioritize it. And worse come to worst, I just won't make the full word count, but I'll be farther along, and that can't be a bad thing.
So I sat down to write a little each night, once my daily obligations were done. I had a more-than-full-time job with a monster commute, and all the other typical daily responsibilities to go along with it. But I carved out a little time, and I really enjoyed seeing my word count go up--so much so that I started pushing aside my TV shows to write more.
That first year, I didn't 'win'--I didn't reach the 50,000 word goal. I came in just under 25,000 words.
And yet, my life was changed.
Why?
For a very simple reason: It gave me permission to turn off my 'internal editor' and just let myself write. I didn't even realize that's what was happening until later.
See, when I would sit down to write before NaNoWriMo, I'd get all caught up in my head. The sentence I was writing had to be perfect. The paragraph I was writing had to be perfect. This word here? The one I can't get quite right? I have to sit here and obsess over it I find the perfect word. This plot point here that could go one of two ways? What if I pick the wrong choice and it ruins everything? No, no, I just have to sit here not writing until I figure it out. Then I put it down on paper.
So my brain would seize up and I'd sit in front of the computer writing nothing and loathing myself and desperately wanting to cram Twix bars down my throat.
But when you're faced with writing 50,000 words in 30 days (1,667 words per day), ain't nobody got time for any of that. If you can't find the right word, you put down one that's close enough and then type the next word. If the sentence isn't perfect, that's okay, you'll make it perfect later. If that whole scene you wrote where the monkey turns into an eel has to be rewritten because you need it to be an alligator, and it probably should have started off as a lion anyway, you know what? Just start writing it as an alligator from here, and go back and adjust it later. No biggie. Just get the words down.
And when you do that--when you turn off that editor and just give yourself permission to let the words pour out of you--Guess what? They DO.
I know what you're thinking. "Sure, the words pour out of you, but what you're left with must be a steaming pile of dung." Or, to quote a dear friend of mine when I told her I was going to do this: "I can't imagine any novel you'd write in a month would be worth reading."
Absolutely, positively, 100% correct.
The first draft that you write by the end of your 30 days will most likely be crap. But here's secret #1: every first draft anybody ever writes, whether it takes them 30 days or 30 years, is crap. This is not me talking; I'm paraphrasing Ernest Hemingway, who said that 'The first draft of anything is shit.'. Look it up if you don't believe me.
There is something incredibly freeing about not stressing over the fact that your first draft will probably be crap. In my case, it allowed me to stop sabotaging myself by expecting something great to come out of my fingers, and just allowed me to write, and get that first draft down on paper.
Because here's secret #2: You can't revise a draft that isn't written.
So why not get your first draft out there in the best, most efficient way possible? In a tried-and-true time-honored tradition, surrounded by a support group of half a million people?
Because here's secret #3: When you free yourself to write with 'literary abandon', amazing things come out of your brain. Ideas will seem to come from nowhere. Plot points you were worried about when you started will resolve themselves. Your characters will do things and become things you didn't anticipate, and they will be better than you thought they could be. There were whole characters I didn't know would exist, and whole sections of my book I had no idea what to do with when I sat down at the beginning of that NaNoWriMo. I understand why writers and artists talk about 'their muse'; it's the strangest thing to have your brain spit out things without consulting you first. It truly feels like you're channeling someone else.
And why? Because writing this way optimizes the associative way that our brain works. That might not be a quote from Hemingway, but there's a Ph.D from the best psychology program in the country backing up that claim for you.
As I say, I didn't 'win' NaNoWriMo my first year. But the next year, 2013, I did. And it was an amazing feeling.
I had a little more work to do to finish (my first draft came in at 123,000 words), but I finished that quickly. Then, I put it aside; I had read Stephen King's On Writing, and in it he advises writers to put aside their first draft for at least six weeks before starting to revise--but to keep writing daily on another project in the meantime. I figured, Stephen King is clearly doing something right, so doing what he does is worth a shot. So I began working on an idea I had for another novel; I approached it the same way I had approached NaNoWriMo: I gave myself a daily goal of 1,667 words.
Six weeks later, I had a completed first draft of my second novel. It had been a fairly vague idea when I started it--about a serial killer who finds his victims online--but it was a fully plotted book by the time I was done.
I now know, without a shadow of a doubt, that I can write a novel. I never have to doubt that again. Is it a novel someone will want to read? We'll see. But I now have a starting point to build from.
I can hear you saying "That's all well and good, Michelle, but it won't work for me." Okay, let's talk about that. Because I call shenanigans.
Here are the excuses I've heard from friends (they talk more about each on the NaNoWriMo site):
(1) I don't have time.
This is just not true. Sorry. It takes about 7-10 hours per week to finish the 50,000. Wake yourself up an hour early or go to bed an hour late, or (gasp!) cut out one hour of TV or Facebook per day, and you're just about there. Yes, I love NCIS as much as you do, and my life would not be as rich without those cute Lolcats my friends share on their FB pages. But you aren't giving them up forever. You can catch up on your shows in December, and there will never stop being new Lolcats. Seriously now. You can do this.
(2) I don't have anything to write about.
First of all, yes you do. If I can come up with a novel out of 'Hey, there are some crazy people that hang out in World of Warcraft. Odds are one of them somewhere has to be a serial killer...Hey! That would make a cool book!', you can come up with one, too. Flip through the newspaper and check out the crazy crap you find there. Take a look at a shelf of books at the library, and pick one of them to change in some way, to make better. Take that really weird dream you had last night where you were a fighter pilot in an alternate galaxy with hyperspace aardvarks trying to eat your brain, and run with it.
Second of all, lot of people start NaNo with absolutely no idea in mind at all. They just start free-writing, and something comes. And they build on it. And build on that. They are no different or better than you. I promise.
(3) I don't want to write a novel. I'm more of a non-fiction/short story/screenplay person.
There is a whole group of 'rebels' who use NaNoWriMo to write things other than novels, including all of the above and more (even dissertations). So decide you're going to write 5 short stories. Or that how-to book you've always wanted to write. Go for it!
(4) I don't think I can manage the 50,000 words...I might be able to come up with 2-3 hours per week, but that's all.
That's okay! Set your own goal. Make it 25,000 words, or even 10,000 words. There are no blue meanies who will come out and spank you if you don't reach the 50,000 words (and if you like that sort of thing, I'm sure you can make your own arrangements to set that up as a motivating reward). Nobody cares. Everyone will cheer you for accomplishing however much you accomplish, because here's secret #4: even if you only write 5,000 words, that's 5,000 more than you had before you started. And that's awesome!!!
But I'm willing to bet that once you start, you'll write a lot more than you think you will. It's invigorating. It's freeing. And it's fun.
So, come out and join me for NaNoWriMo next month. Add me as your buddy--drop me a line at michellemchouinard@gmail.com, and we can exchange avatars. This is my third year, and this year I'll be starting a fun little novel called 'Accidental Divination'. I'll be posting my progress here, and need you all to hold me accountable!!
Here is a link to their FAQ page, which will answer all of your questions--but feel free to ask me anything you want, too, and I'll help you where I can.
What it boils down to is this: what do you have to lose? Nothing. But you stand to gain a lot. Belief in yourself. Your very own novel. Bragging rights. One thing crossed off your bucket list.
And if you're like me, it might even change your life.
M.
(P.S.: Secret #5 is that it really should be 'International Novel Writing Month' because people from all over the world do it in all sorts of different languages. So if you aren't in the US and you don't write in English, that still won't stop you!)
Friday, October 24, 2014
Monday, October 13, 2014
Zombie Flash Fiction Published!
I am so excited, October must be my lucky month! I just found out that the zombie flash fiction piece I wrote has been published on Every Writer!
You can read the piece by clicking here or on the picture below; because it's a flash fiction piece it's very short, only takes a couple of minutes to read (Warning: this piece does have some gore in it, so take a pass if that's not your thing). If you take a look, let me know what you think!
Happy Halloween everybody--watch out for those zombies!! :)
M.
You can read the piece by clicking here or on the picture below; because it's a flash fiction piece it's very short, only takes a couple of minutes to read (Warning: this piece does have some gore in it, so take a pass if that's not your thing). If you take a look, let me know what you think!
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| (Photo credit: Vorspiel by Ann Dunn) |
Happy Halloween everybody--watch out for those zombies!! :)
M.
Wednesday, October 1, 2014
The One That Got Away: My piece has been officially published!!
Guess what?!?!
My flash-fiction piece has now been officially published! It's a fast read, no more than a minute or two, if you want to check it out.
You can find it by clicking here:
Thank you so much for checking it out if you get a chance!
My flash-fiction piece has now been officially published! It's a fast read, no more than a minute or two, if you want to check it out.
You can find it by clicking here:
Thank you so much for checking it out if you get a chance!
Sunday, September 21, 2014
The Volcano Death March
(When I posted my 'ABCs of Me', I mentioned I hiked up a volcano, and got a few questions about that, so I thought I'd tell the story of it here. My apologies that the pictures were taken before I had a digital camera, so these are pictures of pictures. Otherwise, enjoy!)
I’m not a big fan of helicopters or small planes. I’ll fly in them if I have to, but only if there’s no other option.
So when my husband and I were picking the day trips for our our cruise to Hawaii, I didn’t want to do anything that involved helicopters. We knew we wanted to see one of the active volcanoes, and there were two ways to do that—take a helicopter trip, or take a hike.
“Let’s do the hike!” I said. “We’ll see our volcano and work off some of the buffet food at the same time! And we’ll get an authentic, real experience, see all different parts of the volcano, not just be dropped off at the top!”
It sounded like a good idea at the time, and we signed up for the volcano hike filled with optimism and joy, then held hands while we peered over the side of the ship into the sunset. Ah, to be so naive again.
On the day of the hike, they distributed waivers for us to sign as we rode out to the site. I’m pretty particular about reading everything I sign, and read through the extensive list of injuries that we might sustain, including death.
Death.
That’s a pretty intense word, and my husband pointed to it with eyebrows raised.
“They have to put that in there.” I said. “Even if it were a nature walk to look at butterflies, they’d make us sign that. Don’t be such a wuss.” He narrowed his eyes at me and shrugged.
A group of five guides met us when we arrived. The leader gathered us together and told us to listen up:
“If you have any injuries or heart problems, difficulty breathing, this hike is not for you. The bus driver will take you back to the ship and refund your money. If you think you’re in good physical condition, this hike will redefine your idea of what it means to be ‘in shape’. And if you’re not in good physical condition, this hike will help you find religion.”
Ha ha ha. Very funny. I’m sorry, but I just couldn’t take that seriously from a group of five guys who were all chain smoking.
“We normally work on a very tight schedule, and today it’s even tighter because your ship has to leave an hour earlier than usual. So we’ll be moving quickly, and you’ll have to keep up.”
Wait, what?
“You will be given a pack that contains five bottles of water and two energy bars. You will need to eat at the midpoints to keep your energy up. If you can carry extra water, please do so.”
Okay. At this point, I started to get a little frightened. But still, I told myself, I work out, and I know my body—I know when to eat and how to hydrate. Five bottles of water for a day hike will be just fine, thank you. Carrying more is just plain stupid.
We headed out; for about twenty minutes we hiked down a paved road that was almost quaint; surrounded by solidified lava flows on either side, you could see the remains of road signs here and there embedded where the lava had wiped out everything in its path.
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| Seriously, this is what you're trying to freak me out about?? Come on. I can do this with one foot tied behind my back. |
This is what all the fuss was about? I began to scoff internally. My elliptical back home is way worse than this! What a bunch of ka-hooey!
And then $*^# got real.
The road ended, and was replaced by trails of lava that extended forward and upward as far as the eye could see. Over each ridge of lava was another ridge of lava, because the flows pile up on top of each other in dreadlock-style rivulets of textured rock. And you have to climb these, up, up, up, to get to the top of the volcano and the site of the active flows.
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| Looks like you just have to climb over this, right? Nope. It kept going like this for two hours. |
This development did not please me. When I think ‘hike’, I assume there is some sort of trail, not just clambering up endless piles of black, unforgiving, volcanic rock.
This is also when the air started to get hot. I know what you’re thinking—well, duh, you’re climbing up a volcano. To a place where there are active lava flows. Which are made of molten rock. Of course it’s gonna be hot!
You’re right. You are. And I have no idea why that never occurred to me, but it didn’t. So this is where I should probably mention that my body and heat do not get along. You know how every year something like four or five people die in Arizona of heat exposure? I’d be one of those people if I lived in Arizona, even if I never left the air-conditioning.
And, to top it all off, we didn’t get any real rest breaks, because we were racing to complete the ‘hike’ in five hours instead of the normal six.
To sum up: I was on a 2.5 hour Stair-master trip directly to hell, which was very confusing for me, since I had always been taught that hell was found in a downward direction.
Yet, I am nothing if not stubborn. There was no way I was going to let our guides be right—I was gonna make it up that volcano if it killed me. I’d show them.
So I climbed. I trudged. I stumbled. And as I did, I drank water almost constantly. At one point, my husband poured a bottle of water over my head and you couldn’t even tell, because my clothes were soaked through with sweat. There was no way my five bottles were going to last even until we got to the top, let alone the trip back.
By the two hour mark, I needed all my focus to continue climbing. My eyes fixed directly in front of me, constantly searching for the next places to put my feet. I lost track of my surroundings completely, saw nothing outside of my direct path of vision. With every step, my body told me I couldn’t go any further, and my mind had to keep lying to my legs: just one more step, we’re almost there.
By the time we reached the top, where the flows mostly leveled out, I was done. The heat was coming off the ground in waves you could almost touch, like we were inside a convection oven. About half of the group had given up and turned back long ago, and I was still in the first 20% of our group to arrive. But that didn’t matter right then; my body had had enough, and I sank down to sit on the ground.
My husband, who had been a little bit ahead of me, came back to my side.
“Don’t stop now! The active flows are right over there!” He said.
“I don’t care.” I said.
“No, seriously, not more than fifty feet!” He said.
“That’s awesome for you.” I said.
“You’ll never forgive yourself if you miss this!” Said he.
“Bite me.” Said I.
But he was right, and I knew it. So I took some cleansing breaths, and I reached down deep inside to I don’t even know where. I stood up on legs that felt like overcooked ravioli, and began to move toward the flow, forcing myself to take every step.
Then, a voice rang out.
“STTTTTOOOOOOOPPPPPPP!!”
I stopped, and looked around to see which idiot was doing what stupid thing.
Predictably, the idiot was me. I was so focused I hadn’t noticed the patch of silvery ‘rock’ that indicated a live flow that was only just starting to crust over. I had stopped only inches from stepping into molten lava so hot I probably would have literally pulled back a stump and nothing more.
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| The one I almost stepped on didn't have any orange, just that smooth silvery look. |
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| The heat coming off of these was so intense, it actually messed with my camera. |
In light of this, my husband decided it was a probably a good idea to walk alongside of me for a while, and I managed to make it safely over to the red-and-orange active flows.
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| I could not get closer than this to the lava, it was simply too hot. Even this was too much--as soon as the picture was taken, I bolted away from it. |
They were truly awesome, in the original sense of the word, as in 'awe-inspiring'. And in the distance, the trails flowed all the way down into the ocean, sending up huge plumes of steam where the water met the liquid fire. It was beautiful, it was amazing, it was a monumental demonstration of the power of nature and the wonders of this earth. It was worth every bit of the torture it took to get there, and I don’t regret doing it for a minute.
But next time I’ll take the helicopter.
©Michelle M. Chouinard, 2014. All rights reserved.
Wednesday, September 3, 2014
The ABCs of Me...:)
Hello!
Laurel of Wads Of Stuff recently did an 'ABCs of Me' post to share a little bit about herself, and she inspired me to do the same. So here are some facts about me, alphabet-style! As she did, I'm taking a couple of liberties with a few letters that I felt were not the best for me.
A- Age? Yes, sadly, every day I age a little more. Oh, this is about how old I am? Look! Over there! A squirrel on a spaceship!!
B- Best day? The day I got my Ph.D.
C-Craving? Chocolate. Always chocolate. Or cheese. That'll work, too.
D-Difficult? Losing the ones I love.
E-Embarrassed? I don't get embarrassed easily, but when I do, I turn about as red as a tomato. I do stupid things all the time, though, so I've inured myself to most of that. The fastest way to embarrass me is to say something nice about me in front of a group of people. I suddenly don't know where to put any of my limbs, or my eyes.
F-Fear? I fear spinning my wheels because I haven't learned lessons I'm supposed to learn.
G-Gross? Scatalogical humor. Yuck!
H-Height? five-foot-seven.
I-Interests? Reading, writing, genealogy, psychology, scrapbooking/paper-crafting, cooking, tarot, history, art, nail art.
J-Joy? Writing.
K-Kids? Four kitties and one puppy. The cats may or may not be plotting to kill me (ala The Oatmeal), but my puppy has mah back.
L-Likes? Pina Coladas and walks in the rain. Oh wait, that's a song...
M-Music? Anything that makes me feel good and makes me want to dance.
N-Never? I will never watch E.T. Don't ask, you don't want to know.
O-Once? Once I climbed a volcano. Next time I'll take the helicopter tour.
P-Pet peeves? I have several grammatical quirks that drive me nuts. I hate it when people misuse 'literally'. I hate it when people say 'less' when they should say 'fewer' (things you can count = fewer. So you have less sugar, but fewer oranges--you don't have less oranges. That's just ungrammatical). I hate it when people say 'The proof is in the pudding'--no, no it isn't. The expression is 'The proof of the pudding is in the taste.', and if you think about it, you'll see that makes a lot more sense. Also, if you say you 'could care less', that means you do actually care. What you're trying to say is you *couldn't* care less. And, to round off my list of crazy, I hate it when people say 'You want to have your cake and eat it, too.'. Everyone has their cake, and then eats it. The trick is to eat your cake, and still have it. The expression is 'You want to eat your cake and have it, too.'. Yes, I do know how crazy this sounds and that the only other Americans who says it this way was the Unibomber, and it's one of the reasons they were able to figure out who he was. So no, I'm not proud of it, but it is correct, dammit!!
Q-Quote: "I'm not afraid to fall, it means I climbed up high. To fall is not to fail, you fail when you don't try."
R-Religion? Spirituality.
S-Siblings? I have one half-sister. Love you!!!
T-TV shows? Right now, it's Walking Dead, Orange Is The New Black, House Of Cards, The Big Bang Theory, The Goldbergs, Masterchef, Project Runway, and, if I'm honest...Real Housewives of New Jersey. I'm not ashamed. Not at all. Maybe a little. Don't judge me!!
U-Unique: I'm probably the only person on the planet who has a Ph.D but can't figure out how to get the battery out of my laptop computer.
V-Vacation: I love Europe, cruises, and more and more I like nature-related vacations, like hiking in Point Reyes.
W-Web? I have a website and two blogs. (see the 'About Me' in the upper-right corner if you want to check them out :) )
X-X-ray? I've had pretty much every part of my body X-rayed. And I've had a several scans, as well. I've had a bumpy life, injury-wise!
Y-Why? Why not?
Z-Zoo Animal? Tasmanian Devil. Although I would have also accepted meerkat and mongoose.
So what questions would you add to a list like this, for bloggers to discuss about themselves?
Monday, August 11, 2014
My first Tweet Poem
Hello!
I'm not much of a poet. I write poems occasionally, but they aren't good, and they're usually just meant to be silly.
Well, a poet friend of mine just introduced me to the concept of a 'Tweet Poem' or a 'Poem Tweet', where you write a poem that can fit into a single tweet.
I was intrigued by the idea, and realized that a silly poem I wrote waaaay back a few years ago would pretty much perfectly fit the bill.
So I did it. I posted my first Tweet Poem.
Here it is, for your reading pleasure:
Yes, it's silly, but I love it. :)
And if you want to follow me on twitter, you know, just 'cause, I'm @mishka824.
M.
I'm not much of a poet. I write poems occasionally, but they aren't good, and they're usually just meant to be silly.
Well, a poet friend of mine just introduced me to the concept of a 'Tweet Poem' or a 'Poem Tweet', where you write a poem that can fit into a single tweet.
I was intrigued by the idea, and realized that a silly poem I wrote waaaay back a few years ago would pretty much perfectly fit the bill.
So I did it. I posted my first Tweet Poem.
Here it is, for your reading pleasure:
Ode To A Tasmanian Devil
your little legs are so cute
your beady eyes so sweet
i want to cuddle you
#&%$
i don't use that arm much anyway
Yes, it's silly, but I love it. :)
And if you want to follow me on twitter, you know, just 'cause, I'm @mishka824.
M.
© Michelle M. Chouinard 2014 All rights reserved.
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Short fiction exercise: Go Figure
This is a short fiction piece I wrote; the prompt was just to write a piece that had something to do with a butterfly. Enjoy!
**********
Go Figure
It’s
amazing what can happen because of a butterfly. Doesn’t Chaos Theory say
something like that? I don’t know, doesn’t matter, the point is, it all started
with a butterfly. Go figure.
The only
exercise I really get these days comes from walking. I can’t afford a gym, and
I’m not sure I’d go to one if I could—all those people looking at you, ugh. I
just can’t face that. But walking can get boring unless you mix it up, and if
I’m bored, I plain won’t do it. On that particular day, I started feeling bored
about halfway through, and to top things off, my iPod died. So I was facing
thirty minutes with nothing to distract me from the fact I was exercising, and
my brain wasn’t really up for that.
I was
trying to come up with some game I could play to keep my mind busy, when a
monarch butterfly flew across my path. They aren’t rare or anything, you can
see ‘em all the time if you know where to look. It just seemed like perfect
timing is all, so when it flew around the corner I figured hey why not—I’ll
follow it.
She flitted
around the way butterflies do—backtracking, going in circles, then jumping far
forward—so I had to really focus to keep up with her, and I probably looked
like a crazy person changing direction all the time. But you know, random
movements are supposed to fool your muscles, or something like that. At least
that’s what they’re saying today.
So I was
watching her hard, and after a while when she decided to set herself down for a
minute, I looked around while I walked in place. Wouldn’t you know it, I was on
a street I’ve never seen before, no idea how we got there. I’m not one of those
people that make, what are they called, mental maps? I used to get lost in the
building where I worked, no lie. So it probably wasn’t too smart of me to
follow a butterfly, truth be told.
The street
wasn’t anything special, but just around the corner I caught a glimpse of that
pretty woodwork you seen on Victorian houses, what’s it called, corbels?
Spandrils? I don’t know. But there it was, in these whimsical colors, navy blue
and mint green, with bits of coral here and there. I couldn’t help myself, I
have such a weakness for that sort of thing, so I went around the corner to see
the rest of it.
It was so
charming, covered with all sorts of gables and little porches and it even had a
circular stained glass window. It wasn’t huge or anything, and it wasn’t
restored perfectly, but it was the kind of house that just makes you happy to
look at, you know? So I pulled out my phone to take a picture of it. As I was
trying to figure out how to make it look the other way (why do I want a picture
of myself anyway, I know what I look like!), I heard someone call my name.
I looked
up, and there was a woman at the door. She looked vaguely familiar, but I
couldn’t place her.
“Maggie,
it’s Deanna. Don’t you recognize me?”
Well, I’ll
tell you, you coulda knocked me over with a feather. Deanna and I had been best
friends way back up until the fourth grade, years and years ago. We did
everything together, shared all our secrets. She was always there for me when
my mother would have one of her ‘episodes’, and I showed up at her house
crying. She’d hug me and let me cry it out, never asked questions I didn’t want
to answer. And then she’d find some way to take my mind off of it all. It near
broke my heart when she moved away; in those days we didn’t have Facebook or
Twitter or My-gram or whatever those all are. We didn’t even have e-mail. I
felt like I’d lost a piece of myself, and although we wrote letters, both of us
moved around so much after that, we eventually lost touch.
I ran up to
her, and we gave each other the biggest hug, tears streaming down both our
faces. I guess I don’t mind telling you, I’ve been lonely since my daughter
died. Not a lot of people stick with you through something like that; cancer is
a horrible way to go, and it took all my energy trying to help her beat it. I
just didn’t have time to keep up with my friendships, I guess.
We talked
for two hours, catching up on everything in our lives. She had three girls, and
one of them has passed too, can you imagine? Talk about knowing what someone is
going through. We talked and we cried and we laughed, and I swear, it was like
we never left each other’s side.
I had to
leave because of my doctor’s appointment, but she’s coming to visit tomorrow.
Isn’t it amazing how these things happen? I don’t know how it works, or why,
but I’ll tell you this. When I left, that butterfly was perched right up on her
fencepost.
Go figure.
© Michelle M. Chouinard 2014 All rights reserved.
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