I've been busy the past few weeks getting ready to publish my first book- A memoir, THE SENSITIVE ONE, which comes out one week from today. Yahoo!! I spent about eight years on this project.
There I said it! I have published a freaking book! I am proud of myself.
I want to catch you up to date on what's been happening with me. I've had about five interviews online and over the phone the past two weeks. I am talking about my book, what it is about, what I want people to take away from it, and why I wrote it.
Last week was a tough week for me in more ways than one. There were a couple of days that I had trouble getting out of bed. Feeling depressed, and I beat myself up pretty badly when that happens. So, I was trying to analyze myself like I always do, and after a couple of days, I found myself journaling and crying. I think this is it...I've told a family secret. The silence in my childhood home was deafening. We didn't talk about anything that was going on. That shame once again rose to the surface. But, this time, I am not hiding. I am not going to let shame silence me anymore.
Yesterday I talked to my sister, who has a mental illness that I write about in the book. I was discussing what it was like for me to watch her go through hell. Forty-plus years from her original diagnosis, and we have NEVER discussed it. She had no idea what it was like to see her go through that. I hope she understands my book.
It took a few days, but I got out of my depression, went kayaking with my husband over the weekend, went to visit my kids on Sunday, and suddenly I feel myself again. I realized that I cried a lot last week thinking about my parents thinking about my childhood, thinking of my siblings, and what they're going to think about the book. But like I've read somewhere- we don't carry around a video recorder during our childhood. My memories are an interpretation of events in my childhood, teenage years, young adult years, and life in general. That's that!
OK, so enough seriousness, I wanted to share a writeup I found on Shondaland (one of Shonda Rhimes's online sites). The site shared my book as A book to read in August. ( I was super excited ) The author's name is Katie Tamola. I have since ended up having an interview with her, and I enjoyed our conversation. She's an excellent writer, dog lover, and overall a good person. I'm grateful that our paths have crossed.
I think the writeup captured the essence of my book:
In a book described as The Body Keeps the Score meets The Deepest Well, Susan Frances Morris' memoir, The Sensitive One, begins with a question: "What are the risk factors of getting breast cancer?" Such is Morris' query, which she fatefully typed into Google one day after being diagnosed with breast cancer in her 50s. After learning that particular research links childhood trauma to breast cancer, Morris began — and ultimately takes readers on — a journey into her unsettling and challenging childhood, the beautiful family she starts with her husband, and all of the life in between. Caring for her siblings, combating her father's destructive alcoholism, becoming a nurse — Morris's life experiences help create a memoir that approaches trauma in disparate ways while also weaving every heartbreak with hope. Her words elicit emotion and let readers know that they are not alone, pain deserves to be acknowledged, and love is out there.
But I want to tell you my own words why I wrote book The Sensitive One
As a young child, then a teenager and young adult, my true self was hidden somewhere deep inside. I had no voice. As a sensitive person, I tried to use it by asking questions and figuring out what was going in our house. Nobody listened or answered my questions.
My mother had relied on me as a teenager; therefore, I was not mothered. My father was dealing with his demons, drowning them in beer- leaving him unable to father me.
As I write this to you, I think of my parents- the hope they had as a young couple, my dad an attorney, my mom a nurse. I was so proud of them. Then 12 years old came 13, and 14. Everything changed. The devil placed an evil spell over our house-alcoholism, mental illness, chaos, unpredictable, teenage pregnancies, panic attacks. As I entered my teens and early 20s, others led me to believe others that my voice
I NO LONGER BELIEVE THAT
Love was and is the answer.
The birth of my firstborn became the first key that began to open the locked box to my voice. My firstborn unlocked it, my second born gave me hope, and many years later, my third-born child gave me love.
My true self slowly emerged, and with it came my voice.
Therapy, love, gritty determination, and a deep desire to become my most authentic self led me to who I am today.
MY VOICE MATTERS; YOUR VOICE MATTERS
I want to tell you that no matter how bad things were (or are) in your life, there is hope that lies within. Keep hope alive.
Happiness Opens Possibilities Everywhere.
I hope this blog post finds you not willing to hide your voice anymore from others. Be true to yourself!
And, what I like to reiterate; We all can rise from muddy waters to bloom out of the darkness and radiate into the world!
So go RADIATE!
And get a copy of my book...links on my site susanfrancesmorris.com and let me know your thoughts.
If you do get a copy of my book, please drop me a line I have a free gift for you :)
Hugs to you all!!