All of you who didn’t go to the Goodyear book signing, really should have because there were many awesome people there. Celebrities pretend to be awesome people. People who come to signings are the real deal.
So while there, an old friend came in who used to live in my neighborhood. Our sons and daughters were friends. Then she moved, got divorced, got remarried and moved to Avondale. I hadn’t seen her for about 15 years. She knew Adrienne (one of the other authors) more recently and was her friend too. (Small world.)
While I was signing a book, she was talking to Adrienne, and Adrienne told her she really ought to write a book since she’s gone through a lot in her life.
Our friend said she’d thought about it, but it seemed like such a big step to bare her soul and tell the world about all her dark days. However, even with those fears she still felt like maybe she was supposed to write her story to help someone else.
In way of explanation, she told a story. She said that every time she’d gone through a really hard experience, God had always sent someone to help her through it.
“About four years ago,” she said, “I was going through a really hard trial. I kept waiting for someone to step up and tell me that they knew what I was going through. It didn’t happen, and it didn’t happen, and I was really missing having someone around who could understand and offer advice. Finally, I asked God, “Where is my helper this time?”
And he said, “She hasn’t written her book yet.”
As a writer, those words sent chills through me. Is there a book I should be writing that will specifically help someone else? Maybe. I don’t know. It’s something to ponder.
But a lot of you my fellow writers definitely fall into this category. You have stories about being there, doing that, and coming out a better person for it. Don’t make those who need your stories wait for them.