Some Miracles Take Time

It hurt like crazy. Tears stung my eyes.

My husband helped me up. “Are you okay?” he asked.

I shook my head. “Not really.”

“Where does it hurt?”

“I’m not sure yet.” I wrapped my left hand around my right and pulled it protectively to my chest. “I think it’s my hand.”

“Is it broken?”

“I hope not.”

Awkwardly, I opened and closed my hand. I winced as I flexed my fingers, biting my lip with the effort. My whole hand hurt, but thankfully, my fingers were moving.

Since it didn’t appear to be broken, I took something for inflammation and tucked myself in bed, so that time could begin to work its magic. It was nearly midnight after all. My hand was beginning to swell and a blue stain was spreading across my palm.

It happened so fast. We had returned home late from traveling, and I had dashed to the mailbox to retrieve the mail. The toe of my shoe caught on an uneven seam in the concrete. I went down hard, catching myself with my hand.

I was grateful that nothing seemed to be broken, but the healing took time, and it wasn’t just my hand that hurt. My body seemed to be in shock. I needed extra sleep and I felt awful. I had limited energy and tired easily. I was moody and a little depressed.

That was about three weeks ago. My hand looks and feels a lot better. The rest of me feels better too, at least most of the time. I still type with only two fingers on my right hand, and play only with my left hand on the piano. I still tire easily.

I appreciate my body more each day. What would I do without hands? The body has a miraculous power to heal itself.

I love miracles, even the miracles that take time.

Linda Garner

Broken Promises Stink

I hate broken promises, don’t you.

Broken promises stink, but some are worse than others. There are the big kind. The I don’t love you anymore kind. That’s huge. Heartbreaking.

There are the medium kind. The remember that $5,000 you loaned me kind. For me, this felt huge, until I compared it to the I don’t love you anymore kind of broken promises. Really the $5,000 broken promise is I nothing compared to that. It’s more like the I’ll never tell anyone kind of promise. Or the your job is totally secure kind of promise. This kind of broken promise can really put a kink in your life, but at least it won't break your heart. Usually.

And then, there are the small broken promises. Things like I know I promised to pick you up at 5:30, but I ran into an old friend kind of promise. Or the I’ll clean the bathroom before I go to school kind of promise. Or the I’ll have this ready by Friday kind of promise. This kind of broken promise is annoying and irritating, but not exactly life changing.

What kind of broken promise is the I know we promised to publish your book, but…?

Well they didn’t say they don’t love me anymore. And they didn’t take any of my money. So, even though it feels huge, it must be the small kind of broken promise.

Still stinks, though.

Linda Garner

For the Fun of It

Writing is in my blood. I can’t not write. Some days it would be easier to give it up, because, face it, writing can be a very discouraging business. Rejections, broken promises, no recognition, little financial return. If you’re hoping to make a lot of money, you'd better run the other way.

I used to think it was just me, but I hear these same complaints from other writers. Lots of them. The only sane reason to write is because you love it and you can’t imagine not doing it. There are far easier ways to make money.

What I didn’t know when I first published was how much of the promoting would be on my shoulders. Publishers sometimes make some pretty big promises that are difficult to keep. They ultimately promote the books that will make them the most money. Other books are not promoted with the same verve and consequently do not make the big time. Authors are encouraged to do booksignings, school visits, literacy nights, etc. to build their pool of readers.

I love doing events, but does it really build sales? I think it would be hard to build a case that it does. I have done book signings with only a couple of sales. I thrive on chatting with people, so I do it anyway.

I especially love doing events that make a difference. I enjoy school visits. I love public speaking. I would do it even if I didn’t have a book to promote. Does it build sales? Who knows? I’m not allowed to sell my own books at such events so it would be hard to find a correlation. I am seldom invited to talk directly about my book. I usually talk about writing, about bullying, or about self-worth. It’s good stuff. There is no shameless self-promoting. Does it trickle-down? I’m not sure. We can hope.

Writing is rewarding for me. Watching a book take shape is fulfilling. Seeing it in print is satisfying. Talking about wonderful ideas with others is fulfilling, even if it doesn’t directly involve book sales. I love making a connection with my audience and seeing a light turn on in their heads. When I see that light in their eyes, I am in heaven. This doesn't feel like work to me. It's fun.

I guess that’s why I write. For the fun of it.

Linda Garner