Having returned to the back jungles of Costa Rica, I’ve had to deal with no and slow technology, and other losses in my life slowing me down. I’m clawing my way out. Just got hooked to internet at my house – a feat of unusual difficulty. Yippy. I’m ready to roll on, though not speed.
I open my computer to a writer friend’s announcement of a blog posting. She’s been out of commission for awhile too. she explained her reasons for having the blog and all it entailed, from why she started writing to how she got published. We’re members of the same excellent writing group. I loved the story, especially since she’s a good writer and friend. Check it out at reginaperry.com
So I’m reading along and nodding my head, oh yes, oh yes. I’ve gone through the same evolution or mutation. Started writing memoirs. They are so cathartic and freeing, but not for publication. The truth can be insulting, incriminating, hurtful, embarrassing. First I tried just changing the names to protect the innocent. Hah, that doesn’t work. Then I changed the places. Not enough. Now the characters. I now call my writing historical fiction. I can add, pad and subtract from the truth, but it’s still based on it. I’ve got a good group of Costa Rican stories finished or almost. But patience. I’ll soon be ready to try for that publication, too.
And thanks Regina Perry for getting my ball rolling again.
Glad to see you posting again, Mom. Know its not easy to keep something like this going but maybe with net access down there now it’ll be a tad easier!
Love ya,
Ray
A beautiful post, Jill. You inspire me. What would we do without our writing. I credit it for what sanity I have left. 🙂 In many ways, Sunday Girl was what you term historical fiction. I changed the names, places, and situations, but the issues remained the same. It helped me to see my life more objectively. Keep posting, but more importantly, keep writing. Love you, Marita