You can’t live your life through the eyes of the past
forever. You’ll never be able to move
forward with that fear tethered to you, holding you back. Whatever it is that haunts you, you need to
learn to either accept it or push past it.
You’re too strong to let it bring you down. Don’t drown yourself in the sorrows of what
has been.
~ Decker, Undertow
(Amber Lynn Natusch)
In October, I am writing about all things autumnal: from art
to spooky books, author interviews, recipes, and autumn-inspired writing
prompts AND participating in the Two Pages-a-Day writing challenge.
P
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arents have
superpowers.
They can equip you with
the wings and air support you need to soar to great heights. Or they can beat you to an emotional pulp
with words that cannot be completely forgotten.
And sometimes, the
lies they tell us to protect us, end up blowing a hole in our childhood wide
enough to sail the Titanic through.
Norwegian
Ice Queen
Aesa (pronounced
Ice-ah) left her small Alaskan hometown in a fit of rage and grief. Almost a decade later, she comes home older,
jaded, but hoping to mend her relationship with her stoic fisherman father. She finds more than she had hoped for.
Her story is my
story.
And your story.
It is the story of the
wounds that a broken parent unintentionally inflicts on their child. It is the story of an adult trying to
reconcile the truths the child thought she knew about her parents in general,
and her father in particular.
Hard-wiring
the Human Heart
I am not ashamed to
admit that I stayed up way past my bedtime to finish Undertow. Not just because I
wanted to give an honest critique. But
because Aesa’s struggle was riveting.
And hit an emotional
femoral artery for me.
His words echoed through my mind, contradicting so many things I had thought as a child, those thoughts coloring my adult truths.
Parents are
human. And because they are human, they
are broken. Just like us. So they make mistakes. Just like us.
Image Credit: Amber Lynn Natusch
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They get tired,
cranky, become frustrated, watch their dreams die a slow death. So it’s no wonder that their pain touches
those who are closest to them.
But only the
most sadistic parent purposefully and cruelly inflicts pain and suffering on
their child.
Most are just fumbling
around in the dark, repeating the same mistakes that their parents made, adding
another link in the chain that imprisons families.
I reminded myself that I was no longer that child and he was no longer that man.
But it doesn’t have to
be that way. All it takes is one person
~ someone who has also suffered the pain of loss, rejection, and has emerged
whole, healed ~ softer.
Somehow, he was repairing my hardwired responses with merely his presence, making me see how my mind had failed me over the years. . . .If anyone could heal me, it was him. . . .Sadness didn’t need to be the way of my life.
And it doesn’t need to
be our way of life either.
The Healing
Power of Fiction
Undertow is categorized as a
romance novel, and as such, there are some who would dismiss it as being a waste of
time and energy. If it were a “dime-store”
romance ~ those atrocities to the written word that have no plot, no meaning,
nothing but voyeuristic sex and p*rn in word form, I would agree. But it is not.
It is a story about children, parents, growing
up, healing, and yes, romance. And it
provides a vital benefit for the reader: healing.
G. K. Chesterton said
it best:
Fairy tales do not give the child his first idea of bogey. What fairy tales give the child is his first clear idea of the possible defeat of bogey. The baby has known the dragon intimately ever since he had an imagination. What the fairy tale provides for him is a St. George to kill the dragon.Exactly what the fairy tale does is this: it accustoms him for a series of clear pictures to the idea that these limitless terrors had a limit, that these shapeless enemies have enemies in the knights of God, that there is something in the universe more mystical than darkness, and stronger than strong fear.
One of the greatest burdens the broken heart carries
is the conviction of isolation. I am
alone. No one knows what I am going through. It isn’t true, but it feels like
it. And sometimes, the isolation is
physical: there is no one near you who can understand what you are going
through.
Unless you have a library card or live close to
a bookstore.
A true writer is able to weave a story thread so
strong, it reaches in, pierces the darkness, and pushes the reader to ask
questions, examine the status quo, and reach out for help. For me, Amber helped breach a wall I once
thought impenetrable. And she did it by
telling me Aesa’s story.
And that, my friends, is the mark of a master
storyteller.
Oremus pro invicem,
~ Mikaela
I received
an ARC so I could write this review before the release date. Undertow will be available for download
tomorrow, October 30. Make sure you don't have any early morning meetings on the 31st. You will not go to sleep until you turn the last page.
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