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Jodi Picoult Told Me to Write a Book
I Have the E-mail to Prove it
It was the crisp turning of the seasons in Northern California. The time of year where the sun shines deceptively bright for the cooler temperatures that kiss naked skin not yet covered for the cooler Autumn days that lie ahead. I had recently moved into my studio, living alone for the first time in my 40-year-old life. I had abruptly separated from my wife of 10 years after having survived an extensive health crisis. During the course of the previous 12 months, I had a bomb decimate my life. In the aftermath I was left with a diagnosis of multiple sclerosis, the discovery of two brain tumors, the confirmation that one of the tumors was cancer, two brain surgeries, and moving across the country to undergo months of radiation to the brain generated by specialized technology that spanned 3 stories high. I was simultaneously running an award-winning women’s gift shop, all the while being a brand new mom to my one and only daughter who had just turned one year old. It was easy to conclude I had a lot on my plate.
One of the ways I stayed connected to my loved ones throughout this insanity was by writing updates I posted on Caring Bridge or Facebook. I didn’t post often, yet when I did, I was vulnerable and raw. Creative writing had been my love since I was a child. So even something as simple as an update on my…
