I think I’ve been wrong. This book started out all about Austin. And it is obviously Austin’s story that sits at the center and that moves the narrative along. But this book is really about me and about being a mother. Or a parent. Or a person, for that matter. This is a book about hardship, of course, and overcoming hardship, but it is also about appreciating the little things, about relishing the joys large and small that come your way, about remembering what’s important.
It all sounds sort of cliched, “every cloud has a silver lining,” “life is what you make of it,” but it’s still true. I guess it’s time for me to sit down and rewrite these queries from scratch with that as my selling point — the human part not just the cancer part. Who really walks into a bookstore and chooses a book about cancer anyway, unless you’re living it at that moment. It’s all pretty depressing after all. And while my book is no doubt sad, depressing it is not.
This is such a revelation for me. I’m so glad I posted those letters and got such thorough and thoughtful feedback from so many of you (through all my various modes of communication, especially — of course — Facebook) about what has kept you coming back, even when the life-and-death moments were safely behind us, and reading my every word for the past year and a half. I wish I’d done it sooner.
Thank you. Yet again . . . thank you.