Pub dates are a much anticipated, though anticlimatic events. Still I am excited to tell you that The January Girl was released today. I’ve spent the last few years with Thandy, the main character, trying to figure out why she just won’t up and leave Jack. In so many ways, her story reminded me of my own. ”All good fiction is non fiction,” somebody famous (not me) once said.
Books are like babies. They start off with promise, disappoint you in the middle, and then turn out just fine. When you’re finished writing (after you second guess yourself), you marvel at what it does. I honestly never thought this book would get this far. I wrote it in 45 days. Most of the time was spent in a hospital ICU waiting room while my brother Donnie was on life support. When he died, I stopped writing. A few days passed. After the funeral, I had a dream. Donnie said, “finish.” So I did.
I can’t help but to believe he would be proud of his little sister. He wasn’t one for reading novels, or anything else for that matter, but he was my big brother. Some of my grieving was spilled out over the pages of the book. When I finished, it was like closing a chapter. Losing Donnie was hard, though I tried not to show it at the time. I wanted to be strong. You know, for my mom. But when it was all said and done, losing your brother is just plain hard.
It’s been two years now. And somehow, I know he’s smiling down at me tonight. He’s glad I finished the book. Me too, Donnie. Me too.
