There’s something healing about story. Stories draw us in to draw us out. Story invites us to get lost, to fall under a spell, to leave our world and try out another. And then, like a nimble surgeon, Story delves inside of us and gently pokes around, opening up rooms we thought were locked, digging through drawers we forgot existed, holding out dormant hurts and dried-up desires and dusty memories if only to get us to acknowledge they exist. All kinds of revelations and difficult to swallow truths slip through the side door of story.
But the real gems don’t leave us on the verge of narcissism. The best stories, the ones we can’t shake, tilt our gaze outward and upward. To people who aren’t us. To places we haven’t tamed. To truths and mysteries that surpass our little realm of self. The best stories point to the better, timeless, eternal Story.
That’s why I love fiction and adore writers. And that’s why many writers/artists, including myself, struggle with imposter syndrome because how in the world can I call myself a writer when Victor Hugo and Harper Lee did too? Granted, there is a gamut of literary genre and skill level. Not all stories have to be a classic to be worthwhile. We can unashamedly cram a pulp fiction paperback into our beach bag and not care if the pages get smudged with sun cream because while the story is entertaining, it’s not going to change anybody’s life. Even so, that book, that unique compilation of verbs and nouns, has something to offer. Escape. A new persepctive. A laugh or two. A means by which to swat flies. Still worthy of ink and paper. We may read it, enjoy it, and forget it. It’s still story.
Other stories shape us and live in our psyche forever.
Remember Corduroy, the little bear who lost a button and longed to belong? Who stirred our childish empathy, maybe for the first time? Children’s stories in particular burrow deep. The good ones leave an everlasting thumbprint on our still mushy minds. Most of us have warmer feelings for Charlie Bucket (Charlie and the Chocolate Factory) or Fern Arable (Charlotte’s Web) than we do for Jane Eyre or Captain Ahab because we met these young, relatable, endearing protagonists earlier on in life. Their stories captivated our little minds and put words to emotions and longings we couldn’t otherwise articulate. We lived the story. We were Meg Murray, (A Wrinkle in Time anyone?) Huck Finn, Anne of Green Gables, and Harry Potter. And all the while, without fully realizing it, we were absorbing truths like everyone feels lonely sometimes and friendship is hard and if the animals around you start talking you better listen up.
In a month I’ll be releasing my own youth novel. I didn’t set out to write YA fiction but that’s where I’ve landed happily. It turns out crafting The Girl on a Tube was a journey I needed to take. Creating Addie Brown, a 12-year-old yearning to find her place in London, was unexpected therapy. And now it’s time to open the door and let her live in your head too. It’s all a little exciting and unnerving and just plain sweet. Addie’s great company, and I can’t wait for you to meet her. Very soon.
UK release date is just a month away and I’d be so honored if you closed the writer/reader circle and met the eclectic characters I’ve been chatting with and listening to this past year. And who isn’t interested in winning a free book?
If you ‘ve been following my blog (thank you) you may have noticed I haven’t blogged in awhile (sorry) and that’s because Addie Brown has been demanding my attention. (As well as other writing projects.) To be honest, I probably won’t be blogging here on my site very often, but I most definitley want to keep our connection. So I’m moving to shorter, monthly, emails to keep you updated and, hopefully, pondering God’s goodness and life’s messes. Subscribe by May 5th and you’ll be entered to win a free copy of The Girl on the Tube. Subscribe here.
Thanks for journeying with me,
Rachel x
Preorder today! Avalialble both in UK and U.S.
Rachel Allord 