Inspiration

Most of you who have read Love, Lizzie know the story was inspired by my aunt who suffered from rheumatic fever as a teenager that later developed into rheumatic heart disease. Like the book’s main character Emma, she was warned by doctors to never have children. Love, Lizzie is not my aunt’s story, but as I said, she was my starting point—and then imagination took over. Perhaps what you don’t know is that Love, Lizzie was written more than fifteen years after my first novel, A Dedication, was published.

Why so long? What changed?

The “why so long” answer is practical—and a bit humbling. Although A Dedication received positive critical acclaim (including a Blether gold medal and Best Men’s Fiction for 2005 from RebeccaReads), it struggled commercially. Even with multiple book signing events, and several television and radio show appearances, the publicity surrounding the book never managed to attract a wide enough audience. Adding insult to injury, the publisher, Synergy Books, declared bankruptcy less than a year after my book was released. I received a fraction of the royalties I was due.

So, the practical answer to why I didn’t write for fifteen years is that I didn’t make enough money to justify the sacrifice—and I had three children on the cusp of college. In other Musings on this website, you can read details of the blood, sweat and tears involved with writing a novel but suffice it to say I wasn’t eager to run that gauntlet again, especially with a bruised ego.

What changed?

Two things: not caring about the money side of writing and having lots of free time (yes, retirement) were big factors, but there was something else.

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I admit to being somewhat of a golf fanatic (friends might eliminate the “somewhat” in that sentence), and the thought of hitting the links several times a week was initially enticing. That’s what retired people who love to play golf do, right? But interestingly, the discipline (I could say “dedication” but that would be too corny) to spend another year of my life facing the daily rigors of writing Love, Lizzie was inspired another family member. Our young granddaughter put me back in the starting blocks.

I was relaxing after a particularly good round of golf, feeling a bit sassy and imagining how low my handicap could go, when the reverie was interrupted by a FaceTime call from my daughter and granddaughter. Without question, FaceTime calls with grandchildren are the best (only?) perk of growing old, but two questions kept jabbing me after that call. Who really cares about my golf score (easy answer—no one), and how can I still connect to my grandchildren long after I’m gone? The second question got me thinking.

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The pieces to write again were in place: I’d run this marathon before, I didn’t need to make a living from writing, and I had time to write during “normal” hours (no more four AM alarm clocks!). But there was something else to consider. Could I stay motivated to endure the grueling solitude of writing coming my way?

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The answer to that question was yes. The reason? GRANDCHILDREN!

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