I’ll be honest. There are days when I’d like to declare, “I’m staying in bed for two weeks.” Then, amply supplied with food and snacks, books and some feel-good movies (Dirty Dancing, or Bride and Prejudice anyone?) I’d hunker down, hoping when I emerge from my self-imposed exile, everything will be better.
Of course, I can’t do any such thing. Although over the years I’ve battle anxiety, and gone a few rounds with depression, what I end up doing is coping. It isn’t always pretty but, somehow, I keep putting one foot in front of the other, until I make it through to the other side.
And during those hard times, I learn a lot: about myself, and about others, and that helps me when I sit down to write. Because, in the end, we authors really are writing tales of how people cope with life, their pasts, and their hopes and dreams for the future. In the case of romance writers, we try to figure out how our characters cope with all those things so as to find their way to love.
And one of the things I constantly remind myself is that I can’t fix everything. I fact, there’s very little I can fix beyond my attitude toward, and the resolve with which I face obstacles and problems. Growing up, I had a great example of how to handle whatever life throws at you with grace, style, and determination: my Granduncle, Dr. William “Billy” Aird.
Uncle Billy was our family doctor, and delivered all three of my mother’s children. He had a storied career, including being the head of Kingston, Jamaica’s only psychiatric hospital for a while. But by the time I knew him, he was in private practice, and it never occurred to me at the time how unusual it was to have a doctor with only one arm.
You see, one night, Uncle Billy was driving home from work in his huge old boat of a car, and passed too close to a parked truck. His arm was sheared off just above the elbow. The way I heard the story, he pulled to the side of the road, took off his tie, and made it into a tourniquet. He then drove himself to the hospital. Once there, he was rushed into surgery but, before that, he was joking with the nurses, trying to cheer them up because they were all crying at seeing him in that condition.
It seemed to me that Uncle Billy’s continued success in life came from his refusal to lie down and give up, just because of his circumstances. Of course, not everyone has that ability, and I don’t know what agonies of spirit he went through privately, after his accident. All I know is that he only retired because of old age, many years later, not because of his amputation.
His story is, obliquely, the inspiration for my July release, Best Friend to Doctor Right. I found myself wondering (as we writers do) what it might have been like for Uncle Billy had he been practicing today rather than fifty years ago, and came to the conclusion that he would have found a way to keep on going. He’d have probably been right there on the frontlines, doing whatever was necessary to help.
And that’s the kind of determination we all need right now.
No matter our circumstances, our impediments or situations, we can all make a difference.
Realizing her world is dramatically falling apart, surgeon Mina’s childhood friend Kiah offers her a fresh start on the beautiful Caribbean island he calls home. She’s beyond grateful for his help in regaining the spirit and purpose she feared she’d lost. But when a long-denied attraction spills into their friendship, they must decide whether to risk everything on the breathtaking passion that’s quickly unraveling between them!
And the wonderful Honey Magnolia PR is hosting a Blitz for my release on July 1st, 2020. There’s a giveaway too!