Happy Birthday to Me
And something special for you
Hello!
It's my birthday this week! And so I have a special present for you: A behind-the-scenes look at the first short story I ever wrote, I Will Follow You.
This is a very personal story about my childhood dog, Simba, who was taken from us far too soon. I remember going to pick her up with my dad one afternoon, out to a farm somewhere far away. We walked in through the house, and a snarling black Chow Chow greeted us. That dog terrified me. I was certain she would have dismembered us if she hadn't been locked away.
But all that fear fell away when I met Simba. She was a fluffy furball, full of energy and totally spastic and goofy. Everything in the story up until the day she left us is true, best I can remember through two-plus decades. I wrote this story three years ago, and still can't read it without being reduced into a puddle of sobs. Even just going through and formatting it for the website, catching a few words here and there, I felt myself welling up.
Simba was a good girl.
This story came to me one day, shortly after I left my dream job and began writing full-time. I was feeling all up in my emotions, and my dog, Sydney, was following me around the house. My husband was at work, and my kids were at school, and I was taking a shower as Syd lay on the bath mat. Simba popped into my head at that moment, I'm not sure why. The story of how she woke me up whacking a possum against the side of the house in the middle of the night came to me, as it always does when I think of Simba, and then I thought about that old saying, "They say you die twice. One time when you stop breathing and a second time, a bit later on, when somebody says your name for the last time."
That quote always gives me a conflicting mix of hope and existential dread, which I promise I'll address in therapy and not in this email, but in this context I was just thinking that Simba has been gone for more than twenty years, yet she is still with me every time I remember that story, or even when I recount the day I realized she was sick. And if she stays with me, so do all my other loved ones (animal and otherwise) as long as I keep them in my heart.
With that thought, out poured this story. It didn't take as long to write as most of my fiction does. I think I finished it in an afternoon, through a blur of tears, as I rubbed Sydney's soft fur with my bare feet. I've given up on editing it any more because of the emotional toll. But I think it's a sweet story, and I hope you do, too.
As always, drop me a line either here or at the blog to let me know what you think.
Until next time,
P.S. I know you know an animal lover who will enjoy this story of loss and hope. Go ahead and forward this email, so they can join us over at the cool kids' club.
P.P.S. So, I've been doing these for a while now, and I'm very curious what you think. I'd love to know if you're enjoying the blog, the newsletter, the link between the two. And I'd also love to know what I could do better? Am I emailing too frequently? Are there topics you'd like to know more about? What kinds of exclusives would you like to see? Really, I want to do everything I can to make sure you're finishing these emails with a sense of, "I'm glad I read that," rather than "That was a huge waste of time." Just hit that reply button and let me know.