Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Caregivers is Here!

Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Caregivers is available at a bookstore near you. And Joan Lunden is talking about it! Check out her interview about the book on Good Morning America earlier this week.

The Year That Went to the Dogs, Part Deux

Time and again, writers, editors and other folks in the industry say you should "write what you know." So, in between Elena's first and second brain surgeries last year, I managed to sit butt in chair long enough to write a short story for an upcoming Chicken Soup for the Soul book. The beginning drafts were painful. Not only was I forced to acknowledge my fears, I'd been away from the process for so long that slogging through my prose felt like an exercise in futility. I kept at it in large part because of Elena. She'd been through hell and back again, and now she was facing two more brain surgeries when one was more than enough in anyone's lifetime, thank you very much. The least I could do was suck it up, finish my shitty first draft, and revise my way to something editor worthy by the submission deadline. The hard work paid off. The Chicken Soup folks bought my story! Getting the news in the midst of our family drama was a highlight of my Year That Went to the Dogs, and a reminder to Trust the Process wherever it takes you. Chicken Soup for the Soul: Family Caregivers hits bookshelves nationwide on March 13th. Check out this link for an inside look.

The Year That Went to the Dogs

Is anybody out there? There? There? There? There?

This is my first post since last April, and as I type this entry, I can't help but wonder if even my most loyal followers have moved on. But for those of you who are still out there; for my characters who most likely have disowned me; for my loyal muse who has been starved for attention for far too long; and for fellow writers who wrestle daily with the challenge of balancing work and family, and sitting butt in chair to give your stories a voice, this post is for you.

2011. In our Christmas letter, we called it the Year That Went to the Dogs. It's an apt title for a crappy year, one I would never wish on anyone, not even my enemies.

Detailing what happened would take too much space and energy for a post here; so, I'll give you the Cliff Notes version. My middle daughter Elena ended up needing three brain surgeries last year. By the grace of God she came through them all. But between all the hospital stays, tests, therapies, doctors visits, and follow ups, there was little time left for writing.

Probably my biggest accomplishment in 2011 was honoring Elena by launching and maintaining a webpage on CaringBridge.org where friends and loved ones can read Elena's story, keep track of her progress in an online journal, and leave notes of encouragement in a virtual guestbook. If you're looking for details about Elena's journey, you're invited to visit her site. It's an ongoing story, one that's still unfolding. Click here and search for elenawinters. If you're new to CaringBridge you'll need to create an account in order to view the page, but it's free and easy to do, and a good way to stay connected.

Prayers Needed, Pass It On

Many of you are familiar with my daughter Elena and the journey she's been on with her health. Elena's travels have inspired my own, reminding me daily to trust the process and to have faith that where we are now is where we are supposed to be, whether it be in our personal or professional lives.

In recent weeks, we've entered a new and challenging chapter in Elena's care, one that requires two neurosurgeries in the near future. Both are considered life-saving. The first surgery will happen as early as this coming week. The second two months or so later depending on her recovery.

We need prayers. Lots of them. Please share this news with anyone you think might need to know.

To follow Elena's journey and write a note in her guestbook, sign on to www.caringbridge.com and search for elenawinters.

Consider checking out Elena's new web page, too, at Little Person Big Voice. It's a reminder of who she is outside of her illness and a testimony to the true power of living each moment.

Dorothy was Right

There really is no place like home. E was released from the hospital after her imaging studies yesterday. We returned late last night, exhausted after our week-long visit but so very happy to be back. The first thing E wanted to do after hugging her service dog Jewel was unpack, as if doing so would prove she was home to stay. Spent today acclimating to the real world while she caught up on the sleep she lost at the hospital. Looking forward to returning to a regular writing schedule. Hoping my muse joins me.

A week and counting

Didn't expect E to be here this long, but there you have it. A week and counting. I'd forgotten about the little things that gnaw away at you the longer you're here. The constant beeping from all the monitors. The stale antiseptic smell of the hallways. The fact that while the rest of the world is racing by you're on hospital time where the passage of time is marked by the next blood pressure check. Then there's the reality that even when you're away from the room the parent bracelet around your wrist is a constant reminder that your life is not your own. E has an MRI this afternoon. Planning to escape to Ronald McDonald House until she's out of recovery and back in the room. Maybe I can catch some uninterrupted sleep. I need it.

Writerly report: Closest thing I've done to exercising my muse this week is reading. Losing myself in A Discovery of Witches.

Unexpected Journey

Posting this from the Starlight Family Room on the 6th floor at Children's Hospital in downtown Chicago. E was admitted Tuesday. Kidneys were acting up. She's responding to treatment but the going is slow. Thankfully E is viewing this latest admission as yet another adventure in her journey. For example, she loves the fact that she can order her meals off a menu and have the food on her tray 30 minutes later. She's also enjoying the volunteers. She's working with an artist right now, role playing, story boarding, and doing backdrop design for a video he is putting together with help from inpatients on the floor.

Writerly lesson from all of this:

Trust the process and look for creativity and inspiration in unexpected places.