Joy Returns! and Music

I think the gist of my story will probably be familiar to many. I've wanted to write novels ever since I was a young kid. I was told that it was something a person could not possibly do. I continued to dream about it in the back of my mind, and I told myself that I didn't have time to write, that I didn't have the skills to write a novel, and that I didn't have anything to say. Then one day I knew I had to figure out how to write novels because otherwise I was either going to drown in a sea of sorrow or float along in a zombie existence that bears little resemblance to actually living. I had to do it. Then I remembered a feeling that I had as a kid, of walking into the living room like a cat entering her turf and sitting down at the piano bench, not having to move it one inch because I was the one who played this instrument. It was set for me. Then I would go through my books. Would I practice the classical music and the scales that my teacher had assigned to me? Would I be subversive and dive into “Wichita Lineman” or “Feed the Birds”?

When I played, I could pound. I could touch the keys as lightly as possible, those celestial high notes that made me feel like I was communing with angels. I could use my foot and press down on the pedal and encase my notes in wrapping paper. I could build. I could repeat. I could tell a story. I could be transported away from a world where I was a girl who had a hard time speaking, had difficulty making friends, was followed by anxiety wherever I went, except when I sat down at the piano and surrounded myself with sound.

To me, writing is not about personal glory. It's one of the most humbling things I've ever done. But now when I sit down to write a book, a story calls to me, just like the piano invited me in as a kid. It takes me on a journey high above and far below this earthly plane. It allows me to pour my heart and soul out on a page. It gives me a change to pay tribute. I walked away from the piano for many years. I turned my back on an instrument that had consoled me, inspired me, and invigorated me when I was a child. In my opinion, writing books reopens lines of communication. It sets things right again.

Important Values to Teach and Share

I had just told myself that I needed to sit down and think about what I wanted to write for the blog today, when I caught a glimpse of this article. (Does everyone use Pocket? Every day, Pocket shows me suggested articles, and every day there is at least one that I really want to read. This was the one for today.)

The values discussed in this article are all things that I think about when I write books. I think the principles discussed here are enormously important. If you have a chance give it a read.

Joy Returns! Promotion

Today and tomorrow (July 17th and 18th, 2018), Joy Returns! is available for $0.99 in the Kindle store. Come feel the joy in this sweet book.

To Beverly Cleary and Ramona Quimby

I dove back into the Ramona books this summer and realized two things: 1) these books remain powerful to me to this day, and 2) these stories were healing medicine to me as a child. They gave me strength and hope and insight.

In this series, Ramona Quimby is a sensitive, creative child who wants to fit in but often gets in trouble. She misunderstands normal social cues, and her heart gets broken. She expresses her truth in the world and is often seen as silly or wrong or annoying. She seeks solace through her creativity. She marches to her own drum. As a kid, I could relate.

What I love about these books is that, through these stories, Beverly Clearly gently offers both sides of the equation. We can clearly see what a pest Ramona can be. We can also understand her motivations and marvel at the brilliance of her inner world. And we see her allies—sympathetic teachers, loving parents, an older sister who is sometimes frustrated but always deeply cares for Ramona.

I read these books over and over again as a child because I felt that in their tribute to Ramona, they were also celebrating me. They gave me an understanding to a world that often felt bewildering. They made me feel like everything could be all right. These books were magical to me, and I am so glad that I found them.

Dentists and Kate and the Horses

One day, a couple of years ago, I was walking down a hill, dreaming up things about Kate and the Horses, and I thought, “Her dad is a dentist, and her mom is a singer.” Then a cavalcade of ideas followed. She was a performer, charismatic, the type of person who mesmerizes people, who everyone loves on sight. He was a pedodontist, a dentist for children, someone they dreaded coming to see, someone who tried to make up for that with silly gifts and awkward patter. But despite their differences, these parents love each other, and they love their daughter, Kate, a girl who manages to challenge the world every time she opens her eyes.

I resolved to do research on this father. My mate and I invited my beloved dentist and his wife out to lunch, and I asked questions about what it was like to be a dentist and dentists in general. Dr. Nakamoto recited of litany of character flaws that make up your average dentist, but I took it all with a huge grain of salt. He had been my dentist for years. I felt so fortunate to have met him. When I went to see him, it didn't feel like dental work. It was an opportunity to spend time with a friend.

Then Dr. Nakamoto did the unthinkable. He retired. After an appropriate period of grieving, I went to a a local dentist. It was a shock to my system. It's very different when you go to a dentist who is not your friend. It's unpleasant and scary. I felt I had walked into a nightmare. I left that place and never went back.

Recently, I knew I had to find another dentist. This time, I tried a different approach. Instead of picking a name out of a hat, I surveyed my neighbors. I made a confession. “I'm scared to death of going to the dentist. Do you know one who's kind?” I made a discovery. Many people are afraid to go to the dentist. Through these conversations, I found my new local person. People recommended many dentists to me, but I chose this dentist because he had dogs at his office. Again, I felt like I was back with Kate and the Horses, where Kate is able to do difficult things with the help of animals.

On my first visit, Mike went with me for moral support. There were no signs of dogs in the waiting room. I sensed a trick.

“Where are the dogs?” I asked the receptionist.

“They're in back,” she told me, and moments later, she opened the door, and Tux, a young Boston terrier, bounded in to greet us. He let us pet him for a minute and then he raced back to the door. Hmm. I was again skeptical. Was this all just smoke and mirrors?

But Lulu, an older, more experienced Boston terrier, strolled into the room once I sat down in the dentist's chair. She looked up into my eyes.

“I need your help,” I told her, although I didn't say it out loud.

She jumped in my lap. It made an enormous difference. I was so happy she was there.