The Man Who Knew I Was a Writer....

I can't begin to talk much about writing without mentioning my dad.  Tim St.Onge was a strict man and when I was a kid, I was afraid of him...but I still loved him.  As an adult, I was able to lay the past aside and walk through a time of forgiveness with him.  After that, we became great friends.  I don't know how many times I would have a tough day teaching school and call him that night to vent.  He would listen and then possibly offer some kind of solution or have some story to tie in to what I was dealing with. 

Every time I would write a play for my fifth graders, or a poem for someone, or a short story, he would mention writing a novel.  I would tell him he was crazy and we'd argue the point for a few minutes and the subject would get dropped.  When my dad was diagnosed with cancer in 1997, the subject came up more often.  "Write what you know,"  he'd say. 

I tried.  I tried to write down things from my childhood, teaching stories, etc.  But I always would stop.  It would never go anywhere.  The last time I ever saw him where he could still communicate, he made me promise I would write that novel one day.  Of course I promised.  In that moment I would have promised him anything....

When he died in Sept. of 1998, I was lost.  My biggest fan was gone and I didn't know how to function.  I didn't write much of anything until I finally wrote a poem called "Empty Chair" in his memory.  Slowly the writing returned and I did have an idea for a Middle Ages type High Fantasy book, but I gave up after a few weeks. 

Almost two years ago the idea for that story came back.  It bothered me because my dad had always told me to write what I know.  I didn't live in the Middle Ages, so how could I write about it?  But I had done research on that time period many years for my unit I did for Fifth Grade.  I've always loved dragons, horses, swords, castles, Celtic stuff, myths, etc.  So I began to wonder if this was what I knew? 

By then I figured I had nothing to lose, so I began to build the story again.....and this time it worked.  I have to believe that he is looking down smiling at all of this.  The joke was on me.  I was trying to write something that wasn't in me....now I am. 

It's no secret that I will dedicate this first book to my dad.  A part of the dedication talks about how he heard the sound of dragon wings long before I did....and it's true. 

Who or what inspires you?  Who is someone who supports you and cheers you on?  If they are still on this planet- talk to them today and let them know.  It will make their day!  Next post....other things that have inspired me- including "Planet of the Apes".