I’ll never forget the day a friend stopped me at church. She knew I’d written a book but, instead of the one she expected, I’d written a historical fiction. “I thought you’d write a book about your daughter,” she said to me.
I looked at her in shock. “Are you kidding me? Relive the nightmare of her brain tumor? No way.”
I wouldn’t even entertain the idea of such a project. It would be too difficult to relive her journey through cancer and eventual passing.
How could someone even mention that, I thought?
I went on my way and continued to write historical fiction—until the Lord stopped me at Praise and Worship time at a writer’s conference. This time, Someone else spoke to my heart—and I listened.
You can read about it here, at Southern Writer’s Suite T blog. Click here.