Between Waking

teachingliteracy:

About books (by AJ Batac)

Why do you write?

You may be tempted to skip over this question, but I urge you to pause right now and give it some thought. I’d even propose you do a ten minute timed writing on the topic.

Why?

Because why you write might be more important than what you write.

When it’s a hunger, a calling, a longing that comes from your soul, writing connects you with something greater than yourself. And when you bring that passion to your writing, it helps your readers do the same.

This is true regardless of the genre, so don’t think it only applies to serious literature. We’ve all been saved from a horrible mood by a deep belly laugh and gotten a reprieve from a stressful day by getting lost in a thriller.

So take a minute to reflect on what it is that keeps bringing you back to the page.

To prove that I’ve taken the time to answer this question, here’s my why:

I write for the underdogs, the misfits, the I-don’t-fit-ins. I write because when I was younger, I felt alienated and alone, and one of the few ways I felt like I belonged was when I was immersed in a good book, or transported by a movie or TV show. I write in the hope that I can give my readers that same experience.

I write for you.

From my Heart,

Christina

To download your free copy of The Quickstart Guide to Writing a Novel in 30 Days, click here: http://www.christinagarner.com/quickstart-guide/

#writing #writers

You’re never done coming of age.
#quote #inspiration

Robin Williams committed suicide, and it’s heartbreaking. Not because he was funny, or a celebrity, or a talented actor. Because he was a person, and he was suffering. Suffering so much that no amount of wealth, fame, or love from his family could coax him out of the darkness. I know what place well, and while I don’t condone his choice—I hate his choice—I do understand it. 
I have lived inside a mind that contemplated suicide since I was a young child. I don’t anymore, or at least I haven’t recently, but that doesn’t mean I don’t still suffer from depression. Sometimes it’s low-grade, other times it’s debilitating. There’s a reason the main character in my novels wakes up in a mental hospital. 
They say that the majority of suicides don’t happen from within the deepest depths of depression, and I believe it. In that deep trough, it’s hard enough to brush your teeth, let alone kill yourself. And once you’ve hit that point, you truly don’t want anything—not even death. No, the real torture is on the way down, and on the way back up. On the way down, because you know what’s waiting for you. And on the way back up, because you know it’s only a matter of time before it comes back.
If you’ve never suffered a prolonged bout of severe depression, what I’ve just said sounds macabre, negative, and depressing. But if you’ve been there, you know. And knowing is its own kind of freedom. 
I hope to never been so depressed again that I contemplate killing myself. And I hope if I do, I make a different choice than Mr. Williams did. But however long I’m alive, I’ll keep talking about depression: its causes, its meanings, its healing. Because silence stems from shame, and there is nothing to be ashamed about when it comes to mental illness. 
RIP Mr. Williams. Thank you for all of the belly laughs. I hope you’ve found peace.

“In a dark time, the eye begins to see.”
~Theodore Roethke

New cover for Chasm!

The world is longing to love you. #inspiration