A Story for Myself

 Hello Everyone, I hope you're all well and that life is smiling on you for most of the time. I appreciate it's been too long since I last wrote to you and for that, I am profoundly sorry but, in my defence, it has not been an easy time chez Turner. I am not going to go into too much detail but hopefully, it's enough to say, there have been many days which have been emotionally overwhelming. Having spoken with many people, it seems I am far from being alone when it comes to feeling as if daily life is just getting harder. Also, amongst my fellow authors, we are all competing against the rise of AI and the effects it's having on the world of writing. Unfortunately, many have decided to stop creating altogether which is a great loss, especially as every voice is unique and when one falls silent, it is sad for us all.

As for me, I have also contemplated whether or not to keep going, it is harder to get work seen and so much time is spent marketing that it almost leaves no time to write! Some months ago, I had become very disillusioned and decided that 'All This Time' would be my last novel. I had poured my heart and soul into that book, used everything I had learned from the previous nine novels, and it genuinely felt as if there was nothing left to say. I spent hours contacting book bloggers, promoting on social media and sometimes it felt as if I was yelling into a void. I was told, more than once, that I should focus more on current trends if I wanted to achieve success, but that felt as if I would somehow be selling out. Also, it seemed to me, that what was popular now could quickly become obsolete in the time it would take to write a decent book. I was quickly reminded that if I used AI, the story could be done in a matter of days but, to do that felt like cheating to me. So, what was I to do?

After starting and deleting several projects, late one night, I found myself writing a story which involved a central character that was based almost entirely on me. She felt lost and had reached a point where the idea of just waking up the next day, filled her with dread. But then, another character appeared and, over time, said everything she needed to hear- not in an 'inspirational quote' kind of way, more of a gentle guidance. The more I wrote, I realised I was using the story to advise myself, almost as a kind of therapy, which I know sounds, faintly ridiculous but that's the plain truth.

As can happen, the words seemed to take on a life of their own, more characters appeared, adding more layers to the story until, after many long days and sleepless nights, the first draft was completed. As is my habit, I closed the document and focused my energies back onto daily life. As an aside, this is always a good idea as when you revisit the work, you can see it more clearly than if you never took a break. After a couple of weeks, I settled down to read and although there was no question, it needed plenty of editing, there was something about it, that stayed with me. True, there were no scenes depicting graphic sex of violence, the plot was really quite a simple structure but the emotional impact was undeniable. More than once, it felt as if I was reading someone else's work and, I guess, in a way, I was, as the characters told the story and I had simply just written down their words.

Unsure of what to do next, I asked a close friend to read it, she is someone I trust implicitly to tell me the truth rather than what I might want to hear. Her reaction was completely unexpected as she said, it was probably the best thing I had ever written. To gain another opinion, I sent it to someone else, who admittedly had enjoyed my previous work, but as this was so different, I wanted to see what she would think. Again, thankfully, she also found it profoundly moving, adding that once she had started to read, hadn't been able to stop- luckily, it's a shorter novel than usual.

Having received such positive feedback, I was left wondering what to do next and this is where I am as I type this post, is there a wider audience for this story? Well, only time will tell. But what I can share with you, is sometimes to do something just for yourself, does not make you selfish. I do believe that very often, we put ourselves at the bottom of the list of priorities, as if we somehow stop being the main character in our own lives. I think this is especially true for those who have a caring role, either as parents or looking after older relatives. Our time is spent putting their needs before our own, and although this is done willingly, it can mean, over time, our lives get sidelined and almost forgotten. I know, in the past, this has definitely been the case for me, having been a single mother for a long time, there is no question, that sacrifices had to be made and although I hold not a single trace of resentment, I would have to be a saint not to have sometimes felt as if my 'turn' was never going to come. So, I can heartily recommend doing something just for yourself every so often, because every life matters.

Having reread this post, I suppose it could be seen as some kind of teaser for a new book, but I can assure you, that isn't the case. As I said, I don't know what the future might be for the story and so to try to somehow promote it would be pretty pointless. But I do know, I won't delete it. It talks about hope, love, loss and how to see the smallest light when you feel surrounded by nothing but darkness and even though I wrote it, the words resonate and have meaning for me.

Anyway, that's probably enough for now, again my sincere apologies for not being here sooner and thank you so much to all of you who reached out to check on me. Your support means the world and I never take it for granted, so please stay safe and, if you're going through a dark time, I'll be hoping you can find some light soon.

Take very good care out there xxx