I’m sorry for disappearing.
I should have told you the truth sooner. Maybe you would have understood. I wasn’t trying to avoid you. I was just unable to write.
For over the last year, I’ve been embroiled in the process of ending 23 years of marriage to my biggest fan.
I pushed through the first six months, propelled by the sales and marketing campaign for my memoir, Red Eggs and Good Luck, and the resulting nationwide book tour. But when I returned to California last November, I stopped writing. I would pick up a pen, but I could not find the words to express what was going on or what I felt or needed to say. I could not tell a story, write a poem, or compose a letter. I thought my writing days were over, that I had done what I needed to do, and that my career was finished.
But once my ex-husband signed the final marital settlement agreement, I felt my spirit lighter and my attitude brighter. The first half of my adult life was over. I was free to start again.
Instantly, the words returned.
The first thing I wrote was an apology to you, my fans, my community of readers, my extended family.
I want to thank my ex-husband for the gifts he gave me. For 25 years he protected me, cared for me, guided me, and partnered with me. He helped me grow up and into the woman I am today. He read every story I handed to him, encouraged me to continue on the writing journey despite rejection letters and other setbacks. He never said, “Quit. Get a real job.” I will always cherish those memories of unconditional love and support.
I admit I failed him. I broke his trust and his heart. I didn’t give in and I eventually gave up.
It’s always been difficult for me to write a good ending. That was my ex-husband’s specialty. Getting those last few words right. He isn’t here to do that anymore. It’s one of the many skills I am going to have to learn going forward.
And that’s alright because you’re here with me. We’ll help each other, one word at a time.