By Ann Minnett

After a year of fear and false starts, my ability to write has returned, and for that I am deeply grateful. I now understand what what the process of writing means to me. Here are four reasons for my gratitude:

Writing is my escape into a world of my own making.

Reading used to be my escape, but lately I’m unable or unwilling to start a novel. Reading has no appeal. I feel wrung out by the election from hell. Do you? I am emotionally spent and much more willing to work Sudoku puzzles or play Freecell than read. A good book has tension, people I feel strongly about, twists and turns and surprises. I don’t want to be whipsawed by literature after enduring an insufferable campaign in which every morning brought the same question… What’s happened now? I’ve had enough suspense for a while, and so I write.

Writing is my creative outlet.

I love writing fiction because I can make it up. My earlier career as a Developmental Psychologist required me to be meticulous with facts and interpretations of the data from studies about child and family development. Clinicians, teachers, policy makers make important decisions about children’s lives based on research findings. Professional ethics and oversight ensure researchers stick to facts.

I recently saw a list of fake news sites that flourished on social media during our recent election. I wasn’t surprised to find the blatantly fake ones. (Aha! I knew it!) Then again, I trusted a couple of the fake sites and even shared their articles on Facebook. I believed the hyperbole because those stories paralleled my beliefs.

Therefore, I will fictionalize on purpose and perhaps refrain from dispensing or consuming fiction on social media.

Writing provides me a community of interesting writer friends and colleagues.

I don’t know what I’d do without my eclectic writer friends. During the past months when I considered not writing again, the only reason I didn’t quit was the sad thought of no longer sharing in the writing community.

Besides, writers are thinkers, observers of human nature, and storytellers. My friends amaze, tickle, and often shock me in a good way with what they create.

Writing provides me a heart connection with people I will never meet.

My first two novels deal with deeply personal and frightening events in a girl’s life. There are readers to whom these difficult subjects have meaning, and I’m so grateful when they mention their own lives in heartfelt reviews of my work.

I once sat in on a discussion of Burden of Breath held by readers who work with abused and neglected children. I was fascinated by their insights and opinions. It struck me how the tentacles of relationships exist between Ann the Author and the Unseen Reader. I’d like to write a story about that bond in the future.

Full of gratitude, this writer now finishes final edits for my third novel and is actively engaged in writing a fourth. More to come about their contents in a future post.

Until then, Peace and Happy Thanksgiving, everybody.