Story is true in a way that facts can only dream of. A good story is bigger than facts. It can stay with you, haunt you, change your life. It can even change the world.
Everyone who ever loved a book knows this.
I write to bring about some sort of a change in a reader, even if the change is as small as a fleeting smile, a tear, or a question that lingers. If I’ve done that, it’s a good day.
I’m a grandchild of immigrants, and a great-great-great-great grandchild of other immigrants. On the Irish side, I’m third generation. “And I don’t think there’s any point in being Irish if you don’t know that the world is going to break your heart eventually,” said Daniel Patrick Moynihan not long after JFK was assassinated.
I agree.
But I also believe that there’s no point in being human, and alive, if you don’t know that we all live with hearts in various states of fracture and healing. That’s the whole point, isn’t it? To figure out how to coax our silly old hearts out of bed every morning and make a go of the day. Laugh. Love. Drink coffee.
I hope my writing stays with you.
My current work in progress, We Still Have Us, tells the story of a seventeen-year-old girl in upstate New York who’s caught between poverty and privilege, dreams and duty, past and future. You can read more about it here. And for writerly updates, news, and commentary–and a free short story!–subscribe below to my newsletter.
