Twenty-Two Years of silence
Here is the new and improved website, thanks to Vivian Steckline of WiseInk!
Hanna Kjeldbjerg of WiseInk, who is part of my marketing team, recommended I put a photo of myself on the home page rather than bury it in a hard-to-find spot. Readers are interested in being able to picture the author while they read, Hanna claimed. This put me into a bit of a panic, even though I had anticipated this feedback based on my research of other authors’ sites.
For those early readers of my blog, you know that, up until recently, I had kept my story pretty private.
In fact, Angie Wiechmann, my editor, kept coming back to this point after she completed her initial reading of my manuscript. So how long did it take for you to divulge more than a sentence or two about your illness with anyone outside of your immediate family and Dan?
It took me a minute to think about which year it was that I had ventured to share five minutes’ worth of my story with a trustworthy friend. Hmm, it was 2008, I eventually replied once I had zeroed in on time and place. (I didn’t follow up to tell her that it then had taken another couple of years before I shared my story with somebody else.)
So how many years had passed since your initial diagnosis? Angie wondered.
Twenty-two, I replied.
Twenty-two, Angie repeated. Although her voice was matter-of-fact, I figured that her repeating this number must mean that it was significant.
Silence engulfed us, which was unusual. We both have a lot to say.
Huh, I replied after a long pause, that’s a long time, isn’t it? I had gone twenty-two years without talking about the most influential event in my life with anyone outside of my family and husband?
What about starting the book with this chapter? Angie asked. Where you open up to your friend Diana about your illness?
Yeah, I nodded. I can see how that could set the stage for the chapters that follow.
So that’s where things are at. In December, Angie and I jointly edited my first chapter, which is titled “Twenty-Two Years of Silence.”
As for the photo of myself that I ultimately chose for the home page? I had photos taken of me where I was going for a contemplative look, but I ended up looking ridiculous in them. So I went with the photo of me laughing. Yes, living through my illness was devastating at times and writing this book has occasionally been a slog, yet I am alive, and I have a good life. I am grateful.
Before I sign off, I have a question for you: Do you also have something in your life that you’ve kept close to your chest? What do you think would happen if you chose to share this with someone you trust?