A brief glimpse into my first book
Available Today | September 12
I’ve written poetry for the grieving several times in my life. I have copies of them, but no recollection of whom the poems were written for - their family having told me about them and the rest writing itself…
When Weston died, I knew I’d write something. Of course I would; it’s what I do.
The idea of an entire book though, that was big. And when I sat down with illustrators the idea died off — they needed more than my blank mind’s eye could give them. Storyboards, concepts, layouts…that’s what I wanted to pay them to do.
So I sat down and tried to lay out an idea - and Canva (once again) saved the day. I made a cover and then I made a page, and I liked them.
I was going to create a children’s book for my grandson’s birthday. Plan set.
Now I just had to write the poem.
I knew the book would have dragons and I knew the dragons would impact the weather. My daughter spoke to her other children of how Weston made the sunrise pretty one morning while I was there. It was a beautiful moment to witness.
It reminded me of my childhood when I was told thunder was the noise of angels moving furniture or going bowling, too.
So I wrote a few lines and I played in Canva with illustrations. And I daydreamed.
And thought about it.
And I didn’t tell anyone other than my husband and my closest friends.
For weeks and weeks.
Months.
Then, the timeline to actually receive a finished book got very close so I sat down to write the poem…finally.
the wind they create can heal us
when we feel their presence there
heaven's full of dragons
because life isn't always fair
It was hard. Even the simple lines were pulled from sorrow and grief.
It took me so much longer than most of my poetry.
I cried a lot. But I had most of the poem written and (to me at least) it was powerful.
By this time I was talking about it to anyone who would listen - and not get it back to my daughter. The surprise was what kept me going. I was doing this for my daughter.
I had sad songs playing and took breaks and I took naps and wrote some more. I deleted lines and edited lines and listened to more sappy music. But it wasn’t until mid-August (after weeks of illness and still in recovery mode) that it all came together.
Sometimes the tiny dragons roar their tiny dragon roars
causing tiny fires to erupt on heaven's floor
And the poem was done.
Buy your copy anywhere books are sold or directly from me here.
I hope to write more about the surprise and the amazing event that was my deadline for gifting the book one day, but today isn’t that day.
Thank you so much for reading. Consider hitting the little heart or dropping me a comment. I’d love to chat more.