It is a writing day, a wonderful stretch of hours ahead of me, writing day. I say often just how much I appreciate these days.My mind is juggling lots of feelings this morning. Scrolling down my FB feed I see many people wearing hockey jerseys to support the Humboldt Broncos .My thoughts and prayers are with the families and friends, the surviving players, the first responders, the medical professionals , the bus and the truck drivers.This loss is devastating on so many levels. Not being a hockey playing family I have no jersey to wear and no hockey sticks to set out but my heart is with the country. My heart is with anyone facing loss and suffering.I do believe a caring heart does not shy away from giving voice to the heartbreak and challenge of dealing with loss at any level.So today I take the gift of telling a story. I love how the story unfolds and changes as I give it the time and attention. Taking what I feel , what I know, what I observe and combine it with what I make up is such a joy. Books don’t write themselves is a common saying around here as is Sunday suppers don’t make themselves, Bathrooms don’t clean themselves, etc. Broken hearts don’t heal themselves either. Healing and surviving loss takes hard work, love and support , time and truthfulness, crying and talking, hugging and hoping, simple acts of putting your feet on the floor and taking one difficult day at a time. Life throws the loss in with the love, the joy with the sorrow, the unimaginable with the astounding. 
And I try to write books that mirror all of that. So many books so little time.
Books Don’t Write Themselves
