My First Blog Post…Ever

One of the nice things about being a writer is getting to spend a lot of time doing something we all enjoyed when we were kids—playing with imaginary friends. But I woke up this morning and realized, that as much as I enjoy hanging out with these characters, they’re a very demanding bunch. And they’ve managed to lure me into being pretty much of a hermit.

A hermit is something I don’t want to be. So I’ve decided today is the turning point. The place where I slip away from the characters for a little while and get to connect with living, breathing people. I’m not sure how often I’ll be able to update this blog…my second novel The Book of Someday has a September 2013 publishing date and the manuscript for my third book is due in June. But I’ll do my best to keep in touch.

One of the reasons I want to write a blog is to be able to express how much I enjoy being a part of a community of readers, my soul mates who love to discover and share good books.

So, I guess what I want to say is…I hope all is well with you today, that the book you’re reading at the moment is a spectacular one, and that life is treating you with grace and good humor.

Will check in again soon!

~ Dianne

P.S.  One of things I’m always curious about, when I find a book I like, is how the author came up with the story. So in case any of you are wondering how the idea for The Book of Someday came to be, here’s what happened…

The basis for the story is something I spent my life running away from—one of my deepest fears. It was, literally, a nightmare. The image of a beautiful woman in a silver gown who was opening her mouth to let out a scream I knew would be the sound of absolute horror. That woman, that nightmare, is one of my earliest childhood memories. When I was a little girl, the woman terrified me—I would have given anything to make her go away. Then when I was a teenager I wanted to figure out who she was, but I was still afraid of getting too close to her (or whatever she represented). As an adult, I understood that I needed to deal with her, to give her a context. And being a writer, the only way I knew how to accomplish that was to tell her story.

Decades passed. I could never find a way to do it. Until I stopped running, and let myself come face-to-face with the woman from my nightmare. For my entire life I’d been labeling her as a monster. But when I let go of that label, let it peel away, it took my blinding fear with it, and I was able to see her simply as a woman—a woman, who for some reason had been silenced, and was crying out to be heard.

That was when The Book of Someday was born. It was also when I learned a priceless lesson. If we’re willing to stop running away from the things we fear—if we’re willing to turn around and look them in the heart—they can be wonderfully unexpected gifts.