I've been back in the real world for a few days and I am still struggling with the words to explain exactly what this past weekend at The Ragged Edge meant to me. Usually the words come so easily; but today they aren't. There are just pieces of what Ted and the others shared that are impossible for me to put into words and sentences.
The rawness of what the five authors shared with us is like nothing I have ever heard of. On that first day, Ted shared his bio with us. Listening to him talk about all of his books and successes was daunting for me. I began to wonder why in the world I was there. Then Ted did an amazing thing. He stopped and then said something that made me a bigger fan than before. He told us that he was going to tell us the real story...not just a nice tidy bio.
And he did. He shared his struggles and triumphs. I remember thinking that if he could do it, I could too. Maybe this writing thing was for me. Each author shared their writing journeys and I kept thinking more and more that I related to these people- these writers. When I began talking to other attendees I found I could relate to their stories too. No matter what the age or gender. We all had a common thread. We were writers. We were blue monkeys. We were freaks.
My paradigm has shifted. My DNA has been altered forever. How do you put that into a paragraph? How do you sum that up? How do you assign words and phrases to that?
You don't.
I found that I now get the phrase in the Bible about Mary pondering all the wonderful miracles that happened when Jesus was a baby and pondering them in her heart. I'll bet that she didn't have the words either.
I did come across a note that a friend and co-worker from Nebraska had written me five or six years ago. At the time I was struggling with my identity (I hadn't started writing yet...) and she gave me a card with a tabby cat on the front. The card says, "The Tabby knows where to grow its stripes". Inside, this dear woman wrote "Know why that tabby knows where to grow his stripes? I believe it's because God has it all figured out and planned for him- it's just a natural occurrence as to how those stripes will grow. Your stripes come into being just as natural as the stripes on a tabby cat. God has his plan for you too, Colette. Just let it happen..."
She went on to say some wonderful things and how God would be faithful to show me who I am and use the gifts he given me for His glory. Did this woman know what God would be up to six years later? Did she know that God would restore the gift of writing to me? Did she know I would be in up to my eyeballs in a classic fantasy story?
No. She just told me that my "stripes" were there and God had it all planned and under control. Much like Ted shared about the blue monkey. I am blue- even if I try to fit in with the brown ones. He made me blue. I am different and I need to embrace that. My stripes have been there all along- I have been blue all this time- the difference is that now I acknowledge that.
When we met the authors face to face and had them sign our books, I enjoyed chatting with all of them, but with Ted I didn't say too much. I told him how much the fountain scene in "Immanuel's Veins" meant to me and how beautiful it was to me. He just stared at me and all I could do was stare back. I could not say one more thing other than "Thank you." Again- it was too much for words. The other time I talked to him at the end of the conference I barely said anything either. My heart was bleeding- my emotions were too raw. I simply thanked him for talking to his daughter and that my dad and I had the same type of conversation a few days before he died. That he was worried for me to be a writer, but he gave me his blessing. My dad actually made me promise him I would write at least one novel. How could I look into those blue eyes that were ravaged by the pain of his cancer and not promise him just that one thing? So I made the promise....again just able to get the words out. The eye contact was far more meaningful than the words.
Back to Ted....the words failed me...I just said thank you.....but the eye contact was stunning. I knew he knew what I was trying so hard to say but could not find the correct word to match the emotion.
He knew. He knew even without the words....
I have been thinking about a song that sums any of this up and I have to go with Dream Theater's song "Wither". To me it has always spoken of creating something that is very personal- like my writing.
"I wither and render myself helpless
I give in and everything is clear
I break down and let the story guide me
I wither and give myself away."
You can't be a writer and not share who you are. It's very personal. For me- once I let the story guide me- it changed my writing.
Now to only find the words.....
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Here is Dream Theater's song "Wither".
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