Of passings and new beginnings

First, let me say that our trip to Oklahoma City and the memorial there several years ago was very moving.  It was peaceful and beautiful and fitting to remember the lives lost.  Then, all of a sudden, the hush was broken by, "Jonathan!  Get back here!"  My nephew was several feet out into the shallow reflecting pool, splashing in the water.  Then, I took these pictures and sat for a bit on the steps, looking at the chairs, lit at night, one for everyone killed during the bombing.  The smaller ones for the children sent shivers down my back.  The quiet was interrupted by, "Jonathan, NO!" and my brother in law moving faster than any human I've ever seen, because his little boy was on the very high brick wall, getting ready to climb the Survivors' Tree. 

He's not bad, just a little high strung and a teenager now.  Since my husband and I were not blessed with children, I closely observe at family events and public places, listening and watching.  I hear the words my mother warned me with coming out of my mouth to my cats.  They sigh and roll their eyes as I'm sure I did. 

Another passing happened recently. 

This was a picture of the shuttle they had at Space Camp, in Huntsville, Alabama, which we got to tour quite a few years ago when we were in the city for a science fiction convention.  I grew up reading SF and as a little kid, couldn't decide if I wanted to be a ballerina or an astronaut.  Mom often told the story of how distraught I was I didn't get to hear my name read for my birthday on the local kids' show, because it was interrupted to report John Glenn orbited the Earth.  She stayed up with me to watch the Apollo 11 landing and said it was a thrill when we watched the Apollo-Soyuz launch.  Ah, good memories and the latter was the source of one of my greatest sunburns. 

So, I guess what I'm saying here is that in our fiction, as in our lives, our characters have to change and grow.  Events are often catalysts to the change, but sometimes, it's just maturing.  We know we truly have a winner when we can also change the reader with our work, while we're creating those word images in their minds.  Just a little something to aspire to, as we try to decide those pivotal events that made our characters what they are. 

Anniversaries and memories

On the anniversary of Mom's death, I wish to celebrate fierce women.  Lizzy/Elizabeth, the heroine of my novel Seven Days, is one of them.  Her younger sister, Mary Margaret, not so much.  She comes into her own in my second book in the series, Seven Months, though.  I've read that in good fiction, the characters grow and change.  In great fiction, the reader will grow and change.  We shall see.  I know I have become a better person creating and learning about their world. 

As I wrote and revised in both books, I kept pushing the timetable up, throwing more obstacles in the characters' way.  Testing them with conflict and fire.  I'm kind of cruel that way, but it makes things more interesting, doesn't it?  And part of life is death.  In the fourth book of my series, which involves the children's stories, I had to kill off a major, beloved character.  It wasn't the first tragedy the family had to deal with, but it sucked.  But, since my books are primarily love stories, I show how the main characters handle the initial notification, the shock and horror, by pulling together.  I briefly mention the funeral a few years later, as a hero researches the family and pulls up the news story.  That character becomes a blessing to the family, bringing them joy, when they're still grieving. 

Fiction is about change and how our characters deal with that change.  I've used my reactions to people in my life passing as fuel for my words.  It caused many tears and there are still certain songs that I pray won't come on the radio when I'm driving, because I'll have to fumble for tissues.  Needless to say, I don't listen to country music very often anymore.  I have to admit, it's cleansing, though.  As I unfold these stories, I hope that by sharing these characters' experiences, my readers will find some peace and comfort, along with laughs and entertainment. 

Thanks, Mom, for giving me a love of romance and books.  I can hear you egging me on and I appreciate it.