Stories to tell

I have been wanting for some time to write a book, a memoir of sorts, that tells all about how I lost my hearing and vision and how I made it through (spoiler alert: it was Jesus). That desire to write has waxed and waned over the months, but it’s back strong again. So. I made some progress on writing the book this past week. Okay, not in the actual writing, but I’m getting closer to that. Progress is progress.

The planning phase is important to me. I’ve been reading through my old journals from when I got sick in 2013 until now – I wrote a lot so I’m not even close to finished – and as I’m reading I’m jotting down the stories I want to tell. And I’m thinking that these stories might be good chapters. I don’t know if this is how the professionals do it, but it’s working for me so far. At least it FEELS like it’s working. It’s keeping me motivated and inspired to write and that’s probably the key element in actually completing this goal. This is what I have so far, in no particular order:

The time I got lost in my house
The time I got a pupil massage
The time a bulldozer drove over my head
The time I drove with one eye closed
The time I wanted to die
The time I cut an apple
The time I walked through Office Max, sort of
The time I got shots. In my EARS
The time the preacher pushed me

 

My line of thinking here was that though I have never written a book, I love to tell stories. And a book is essentially just a collection of stories, right? So that’s my starting point. This is so scary to me, but it’s still something I really want to do and so I can’t let fear stop me. I’ll just keep moving forward, one absurdly slow step at a time.

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