And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
As I said before, this is the season of deliveries at your door. For me, they’re mostly deliveries from online shopping, buying presents for others. Today, I received one that was for me, in a package and from a place that I didn’t recognize. Turned out it was for me – and it was from me. I’d forgotten that I’d ordered it.
Olivia came upstairs from taking the dog out to tell me there was a package. When I asked her who it was from, she gave me the name of a company I didn’t recognize. I told her to bring it up. It was large and poofy, like a pillow in an envelope. It was, of course, impossible to open, so I had to attack it – carefully – with scissors, since I didn’t know what was inside.
As I pulled the plastic away, I saw a lovely royal blue, and then blazing white words:
KEEP GOING;
Well, that’s what I’ve been trying to do, isn’t it. I laughed out loud and pulled the hoodie the rest of the way out. That’s when I remembered ordering it. I did order it for myself, but in a sense, I also ordered it for others.
It’s a hoodie to encourage those around you, from familiar to strangers, who may be thinking it’s just not worth it to go on. On the front of the shirt is the message to keep going. On the back, a list of 100 reasons to stay alive. On each sleeve, facing out so that those around you can read it, it says, “You are needed. You are not a burden. You are loved.” I absolutely loved the idea that I could be encouraging someone without even knowing I was doing so, and so I ordered one.
But the first person this shirt talked to was me. One step in front of the other. Acclimating to this new way of life. Keep going.
But it also went deeper.
Two books ago, my novel Hope Always Rises was published. I wrote it to bring out a different perspective on those who choose to end their lives. To do this, I ripped first into the idea that suicide is a “mortal sin”, which is defined as “in Christian theology, particularly within Catholicism, is a gravely serious act that is considered a deliberate and conscious turning away from God, causing a complete separation from God’s grace and potentially leading to damnation if not repented before death.” With suicide, of course, this means that the person dies, so does not repent before death, and as such is forever cut away from God.
In Hope Always Rises, there is a special gated community in Heaven that is just for those who have chosen to end their lives. In my book, God does indeed forgive. And in my book, there is no Hell. God welcomes everyone.
To write the book, I had to dive deep into research on the subject. But I already had a lot of knowledge and experience, through friends choosing to go this route, and through my own personal experience. I decided to write the book after overhearing a conversation in a coffee shop, where two women were talking about someone they actually called “a friend” who had made this choice. They shredded her. “How could she do this?” they charged. “How could she do this to her children? To her husband?” I stood up and turned and said, “You’re asking the right question. How could she do this? But you might want to think about how she could do this to herself. What kind of pain must she have been in to have this seem like the correct path?” And then I walked out. And wrote the book.
I was asked recently, at the launch of my newest novel, Don’t Let Me Keep You, which of my books was my favorite. I used to answer that whichever one I’m working on is my favorite. But now, I have to admit, it’s Hope. I wrote my heart out in that book. In J.D. Salinger’s novella, Seymour; An Introduction, Seymour writes to his brother, Buddy Glass, who is a writer, and he tells Buddy what people will ask when he dies. “I’m so sure you’ll only get asked two questions. Were most of your stars out? Were you busy writing your heart out?” In Hope, every star was out.
This is all connected because recently, there was a review of Hope which was not very nice. I normally pay little to no attention to reviews, and I despise the importance publishers place on them now, pushing writers to weigh their worth on something external, something outside their control, as opposed to putting their worth on the internal, on their work…on their stars. Instead of asking ourselves, Are most of my stars out? while writing the piece, we are told to focus on the stars on websites.
What matters is what we write and how we write it.
This not nice reviewer didn’t like the book because…well, do you suppose it was because it was poorly written? Because the characters didn’t feel real? Because no emotion was conveyed? No. She didn’t like the book because the way I presented God and Heaven wasn’t the way she saw it. And yet, it’s very clear on the book’s description what kind of character God is, and what Heaven is like. She knew she wasn’t going to agree with it before she even read the book. She bought the book so she could bash it.
I think, because of the events of this year, I am probably a little more vulnerable than I usually am. And so this review really hit me, not because she attacked my writing, because she didn’t. She attacked the idea of the book. It didn’t matter how it was written. To her, she didn’t like the idea, so she hated the book.
And so I’ve stepped away from my creative work again for a bit. As I said, I think I’ve been more vulnerable.
But then today, I open the package and read, “KEEP GOING;”.
And you know who told me to do that? ME. I bought the damn shirt. So I could reach out to help other people. Which is why I wrote Hope Always Rises.
But instead I sent a message to myself.
Keep going.
Of course I will. Despite the news, whatever the news brings me every day. Hope Always Rises.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.
