Name of fiction work? Any others you considered? A KIND OF HUSH. I considered The Whisper Room but upon searching there were too many books with similar names.
The date you began writing this piece of fiction. The date when you completely finished. My debut novel, Life in a Box, was published July 3, 2017, after a lifetime of dreaming and five years of writing. In the early morning hours of July 4, 2017, I scratched out a couple of sentences and the profile of the young boy in Hush. I didn’t know where this novel would take me, but his character spoke to me in a way that I knew he had to be in whatever I wrote next. I have joked that he is most likely to be in my will – much to the chagrin of my grandsons!
About the time the pandemic locked everything down, I had about 50,000 words in the manuscript and pushed hard during the quarantine periods to complete it, sending the manuscript to my editor (Vivian Freeman Chaffin) the early part of April. The publication date was July 1, 2021. I’m hoping to addan audio version to the paperback, hardback, and ebook editions.
https://www.facebook.com/vivian.freeman.714
Where do you do most of your fiction writing? Please describe in detail and provide a photo? We have an office in the house so I originally thought that would be the ideal place to create. However, it’s filled with family photos and memorabilia from travels, etc…too many distractions. Since I work on my laptop, I tried several places throughout the house but kept coming back to our bedroom. Many sage advisors recommended never using this room as “mixed use” as it is designed to be a place of comfort and rest – to turn off the brain. In hindsight this choice is most likely connected to the ever-present notepad I keep beside the bed as I jot notes (in the dark) in the middle of the night or early morning hours as thoughts keep me awake. For me insomnia is my friend! I write standing up as sitting is the “new smoking” according to some.
What are your writing habits? Sip on something? Listen to music? Write in pen and paper? Directly on a laptop? A specific time of day? The first thing I do in the mornings is look at my “night-notes” to make sure I can read them before coffee, reading the paper, and doing the crossword puzzle. I’d love to brag and say I complete the New York Times puzzle every day, but I have found it stressed me too much as I don’t like to give up on a challenge and this one takes too much time away from writing. Occasionally I’ll fill in a couple of words before moving on to what my day has planned for me.
I generally wrap up my writing projects (I write a lighthearted column for the local newspaper and minutes and reviews after our book club meetings) and whatever manuscript I’m working on when the 5:00 pm bell rings. My column in the local newspaper is entitled Back Porch Musings which appears in The Monitor of Cedar Creek Lake.
I drink water all day until it’s time for a more adult-type beverage. My laptop is my tool and I create directly on it – no pen and yellow legal pad for this writer!
Include one excerpt with page numbers as references. Can be as short or long as you prefer. This excerpt highlights the relationship between a father and his young son with the son as vulnerable and mature as an adult capable of expressing his world-wisdom to comfort his grieving father. Chapter 31, Father and Son (pages 269-271) copyrighted text:
Gabe, sitting on the floor in the corner of the bedroom his parents once shared, his body warmed by the smoldering fire bouncing an incandescent inner glow on his face as if sated with lightning bugs. His whisper room, with its door open and all set for a visitor, had traveled to Texas along with a keepsake box tied with string. When opened the sides fell back revealing places to write notes and compartments holding photos and drawings dedicated to remembrances of his mom. Inside was a small wooden cross necklace with plastic beads he had made after Griff died, an embroidered handkerchief doused with her favorite perfume, and a tribute picture he drew labeled Magical Mommy. Her face, encircled by a halo, radiated contentment as a smile extended from one ear to the other. She held an elf on the shelf doll with the caption, where love begins, and it was signed Gabriel Edward Mackie, 2011. Gabe, absorbed in the legacy of his mother, was reading out loud a poem she wrote and did not hear Matt come into the room.
Dear Gabe,
You’re my star, my son of wonderment
You’re my star, my son of joy
A jewel in your mother’s crown who never
makes me frown.
I love you, my star.
Matt stood still barely breathing as not to interrupt his son clearly in the throes of reflection and devotion to his mother. His breath caught in his throat when he heard him say, “Mommy, you gotta help me help Daddy. I’m worried because he’s sick. Not sick with a cold or anything. He smiles, but his heart hurts.”
The anguish in Gabe’s words cut deep into his core uncertain if he could comfort him, but profoundly touched by the depth of his convictions. His son’s emotional intelligence was on display, like a little old soul who feels the energy in the room when something is wrong and who’s curious and certain the answers are to be found, but he hasn’t located them yet.
“Son, can Daddy come sit with you?”
Gabe, surprised by his Dad’s voice, patted the floor for Matt to join him, showing him one by one the treasures he had collected before saying, “Mommy told me Griff was lonely, so she had to go and take baby Mack with her, so he’d have a playmate. She knew I’d be okay ’cause I had you and Willa.”
Matt pinched his lips tightly to keep them from trembling, a painful tightness gathering in his throat as he searched for words that would not hang empty in the air. A turbulence churned in his dark, humid eyes, and questions swirled as he turned to face his son. “Gabe, how did you know the baby’s name was Mack?”
“Mommy told me when she got her angel wings.”
Matt let go of the suppressed grief that had been racking his body and soul. His tears, the natural bleeding of emotional wounds, broke the dam paving the way to a life without Summer. With his son in his arms, he rocked back and forth fighting the current of exhaustion until he lost strength to hold on any longer. It took the wisdom of his young gifted child to give him a way to silence his mind and let himself heal.
Morning arrived finding Gabe wrapped like a burrito in a blanket with Matt clinging to the edge of the bed still dressed in his clothes from the night before. Yesterday, he was flailing around in a canoe on the high seas, battling gale force winds while the protector of the universe seemingly slumbered. His body ached as though thrown by a bull named Fu Manchu, but a sense of wellness soothed the discomfort. Today, he would still mourn the loss of his wife and unborn son, but as he slipped out of bed, Matt embraced the realization that although the foundation under the house he built with Summer was shattered, he would rebuild it brick by brick for himself and his children. He showered, changed clothes, and opened the bedroom door without Gabe moving. Sadie greeted him with a full helicopter wag of her tail bringing her hips with it performing the shaky-shaky-happy dance. In her mouth she held Gabe’s stuffed turtle, Wiz, as if she knew it would bring comfort to her little companion. Matt rubbed her between the ears before going downstairs with Sadie curling back up in front of the bedroom door, using Gabe’s cuddly tortoise as a pillow.
https://jodeeneathery.com/a-kind-of-hush-story
Why is this excerpt so emotional for you to write? Describe your own emotional experience of writing this specific piece. Early on in my writing endeavors a fellow author (Al Dewlen) told me that novels without emotion are not novels from an hour-long telephone conversation I had with him. Al Dewlen is the author of The Bone Pickers, Twilight of Honor, The Night of the Tiger, The session, Ride Beyond Vengeance, Next of Kin, and The Golden Touch. At the time of our chat, he was teaching creative writing at Baylor University, Waco, Texas.
He also said to find a truth and base a novel on that truth – it can be as simple as the grass is greener on the other side of the road – but you must be able to state that truth in one simple sentence when asked what is your novel about?
Click below to read about Al Dewlen’s life and legacy
https://www.amarillo.com/article/20110819/NEWS/308199790
I’ve always been prone to tear up easily – the playing of “God Bless America” is a guaranteed three tissue event – so writing emotional scenes are enjoyable challenges for me. The goal is for the reader to feel your words and embrace the passion within them. If I can get one “awwwww” from a reader with a little moisture gathering in their eye, I feel I’ve done a good job.
I’m emotional every time I read this excerpt and trust me that’s been many times from the writing through all the editing. Childhood memories often involve a simple gesture or word that creates a reaction – something that when we remember it provokes a variety of emotions – some good, some not.
The bond between children and parents is often complicated and misunderstood by both sides. Sometimes it takes the simplest words from a loved one to put “life” back in order. Insight is not defined in years on this earth and empathy is a precious gift not exclusive to the older generation. Some people just feel the pain of others at a deeper level and are able to offer comfort. I wanted Gabe’s character to possess that quality and as his grandfather said, “some people have strength of mind – he has strength of soul.”
https://jodeeneathery.com/shop/ols/products/a-kind-of-hush
Were there any deletions from this excerpt that you can share? Can you include a photo of the marked up rough drafts of this excerpt? I don’t recall any edits to this excerpt, but I searched the older versions of my novel on my laptop and didn’t come up with any deviations from what is included in the final copy.
All of the Inside The Emotion of Fiction LIVE LINKS can be found at the very end of the below feature:
http://chrisricecooper.blogspot.com/2021/03/stephenson-holts-arranged-marriage-is.html
The images in this specific piece are granted copyright: Public Domain, GNU Free Documentation Licenses, Fair Use Under The United States Copyright Law.
The other images are granted copyright permission by the copyright holder, which is identified beneath each photo.
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