Journal: 11/29/06

National Novel Writing Month is over, and so is another stage of grieving. The current novel writing effort was grueling, though I saw it as a task that had to be done, particularly for my own sanity.

About Dying: A Memoir (54913 Words)

This year, instead of writing about the aspects of my life that I love the least, most of my readers knew that I was writing about the eight weeks I took care of Joann in her final days. Essentially, I relived not only those eight weeks, but also our entire three years together, arranged as flashbacks of the significant events in our life together, interwoven with the daily narrative of Home Hospice that I kept on this blog. It was a "novel" idea, I thought, using my blog as the outline for the book, an idea I will use over again.

However, though I was in possession of the outline, I underestimated the impact of going back over history with a fine-toothed comb. Setting out on this venture, I realized that there would be some emotional issues I would have to deal with, issues that I had not come to grips with yet, but seriously needed to as part of my "closure." In some small way I have managed, as the benefit of writing this book, to deal with some details surrounding Joann’s passing and my own immobility for so long afterward. I know I am a better human for having come this far, almost fifty-five thousand words, with Joann’s memory, but I’m not done yet—with the book or fighting through my depression over her loss.

I know I have a long way to go still. This is the first book attempt in five years that I feel like I really want to finish. It was one of the goals of the blog to present Joann’s and my experiences, both sides of the coin, so to speak, to others in the same situation, and the book serves this purpose also, maybe in even greater detail that the blog itself. I also recognize that going through the process of finishing the book is yet another league or two down the road to my being able to live without her in a productive and satisfying way. The two go hand in hand, leastways, that’s how I envision it.

In terms of getting the book ready for its first editing cycle, I am only half complete. To make it saleable I need to add another fifty thousand words to what I already have. That won’t be hard, so far I’ve really just written the main narrative, now I need to put some life into the characters, detail the stories better, and make the whole thing flow smoothly.

It was an alternately exhilarating and depressive experience, this year’s book writing, on many different levels. I feel that I have made progress both in my writing by having something that actually resembles a book, and through the cathartic process of grieving. I’m not finished with either, but I am comfortable with the progress I’ve made.