Absorbing fiction we grow from as we read.

I have known my work is “Literary Fiction” in that every word counts, and the characters are rich, multi-layered, complex. It is “Magic Realism” in that it reads as though this is just an everyday story while making laying-on-of-hands, reincarnation and such clearly part of that reality, and relevant to our strained and challenging modern lives. But now with the sub-genre “Visionary Fiction” I get the rest of it. Ancient principles and teachings shared without preaching. Powerful emphasis on the limitless potential each has for growth and transformation. These are the bases for every one of my novels. It is all there now. Thank you so much for this new discovery, Ellis Nelson.

Reaching the hopeless through our own doubt.

My love/guide told me today that if I hadn’t had all those years of suffering and crippling doubt I couldn’t have written the books that I do, and could’t have reached the people I reach. I write books of hope for the hopeless; stories of deep meaning for the lost and out of touch. I couldn’t have come to them in compassion and empathy if I hadn’t myself felt disconnected, and like God and all meaning had turned from me.

When we are more than we are.

Sometimes, when the vastness pours everywhere and I am merely part of it, following inspiration, following each moment, it is so hard to find nouns or pronouns to describe what the body is doing. IT is eating? WE are writing? I am down by the lake? THIS BRAIN is tired?

Flow should really be a pseudo-personal pronoun. FLOW is sharing thoughts with the world.

Writing under the influence (of the unseen).

It’s so obvious that I could never write anywhere near as powerfully or as quickly as this latest book has been coming through. Some beings unseen have to be helping. Often it feels like I’m merely taking dictation. But then, when I have to take a couple days off for a conference or some long-distance book readings, I feel bad because I’m not getting anything written.
My always wise but entertaining other half told me this time, “Well, THEY needed a rest, too!”

Suffering may come to us with a purpose.

The Mourning After is obviously about reincarnation. I used to try to keep that a secret since the narrator takes a long time figuring that out. But what the heck; it’s all over the ads, and detailed on the back of the book, so I guess I can tell a few friends now anyway, huh? Three companions are caught up, through many cultures and lifetimes, in an entwined cycle of harsh tragedy and wondrous love.  They fight desperately to destroy the one without losing the other.

The book I am beginning now, Ailana’s Gardens, takes place in one lifetime, centering around healers and healing. When I ask unseen guides what it’s about generally, though, I keep getting stuff like, “There is so much pain in the world. The trick may be to find why this particular suffering is yours; why it came to you. Find what lies beneath it. You are not here to run away, but to find deeper truths it may carry within it. What are you now ready for? What may you finally be able to let go of? How are you ready to grow? And the most important question; As you heal, can you help others in the process?”

Today, the concept that greeted me was, “Suffering offers itself to us as a process of birth. Only by finding the stillness in the chaos, the light in our own darkness, can we unfold what we are here for, and how to work miracles as we set about making a difference in the world”.

I keep flashing on that scene from The Robe, where Richard Burton’s troubled Roman centurion character searches out an early Christian who had been crippled until she’d met Jesus. The Master had gone in and spent private time with her and healed her. Burton finds the girl, but sees she’s still lame. She tells him how miserable she had been, but now she radiates such peace and joy that her Light changes everyone near her.

She sees that she is more than her legs. She is thrilled to feel love again, to be alive and helping others.