Bones and Thorns

Taking it down to the bones.  That’s what I’ve been doing with my writing these days.  Looking for the structure of it all.  Not the structure of a single story line—something more elemental:  the structure of my body of work as a writer.  My poetry.  My picture books.  My novels and short stories. What gives it shape?  What supports it?  What makes it different from other bodies of work?  I’m not talking about themes.  I’m talking about foundations.

How do I define myself as a writer?  As a person?

What’s in my bones?

So Long Ago

When my mother sang us

her old Japanese songs,

the window shades were pulled

and sunlight tiptoed past

the quiet bedroom. I

peered through the frames of my

heavy eyelids into

my brother’s round eyes

and saw the world,

its fullness.

I slept and had no need

for dreams.

Daughter of a Japanese immigrant and a French/Irish American father, sister sandwiched between two intellectually disabled siblings with degenerative muscle disease, my bones are inlaid with the experiences of our shared journey.

Worry, fear, joy, guilt, contentment. . . in my picture books and upper-middle grade/young adult novels, I hope to give voice to the tangled and thorny emotions experienced by “typically developing” siblings of children with special needs.

But I do not choose to hide among the bones (although Cara, the main character of my current work in progress, is literally doing so right now).  I can't dwell in the past. I choose to see what I can build upon the bones--on the thorny emotions, the good and the bad.  Hence, the title of my blog.  Be happy the thorn bush has roses.

A rosebush, when whittled down to bare bones, reveals a lot of prickers.  But the thorns give rise to a multitude of flowers. 

A life, when pared down, reveals joys and challenges.  But the stories that blossom from each life are just waiting to be told. We can make them beautiful.

What do you see when you take your life down to the bones?  Where are the thorns?  Where are the roses?

Welcome to my blog.  I’m off to rescue Cara from her hiding place now.  She may need those bones for shelter now, but she can't stay there forever.  She has a story to share.