family – Page 2 – Sharon M. Scarborough-Author

Friends and Family

This getting wiser as one gets older is a bit of a challenge. Don’t get me wrong: wiser is good. But I find myself sometimes thinking of the past with all the hurt that goes with growing up. I still wish I had hugged my grandparents more. I really wish I had told my children I loved them more often. I’ve mentioned this to cousins and they may or may not have missed the hugs and affection.

There is more to it, of course. Families are full of agonies and angst. Families are about love and hate and all those gritty, unmentionable emotions like lust and greed. Families are perfect for a writer to explore and write about. As a matter of fact, most works of fiction have a family somewhere in their pages. No matter what genre of fiction you choose, families are there.

So, getting wiser took far too long for me. I wish I’d listened to my grandparents:)

Maxx

I haven’t written about my dog Maxx yet. He is a Xoloitzcuintli. If you look the breed up on Wikipedia, you’ll see he’s called a Mexican hairless. Maxx has hair. Maxx is his own dog. Maxx has made me aware that, while I used to say “the best things in life are free.” Now, I really believe the best things in life are free—like my good health and the good health of Maxx.

A lot of people have dogs as pets. And a lot of books have been written about dogs . I’m fascinated by the way they seem to understand moods and health, both good and bad, of humans. Everything is fairly simple for Maxx. As long as he’s well fed, warm, and able to chase a ball, he is happy. He doesn’t require expensive gifts or expensive food. He does like staying with me. His breed is pretty much a one person dog, but that’s okay.

In my next book Nightingale (main character) has a mixed breed dog named Bandit. I wrote about him when Nightingale found him as a puppy. I’ve got to figure out his parents, but I’m thinking a Lab and a pit bull. I’m already fond of him and I think readers will be as well.

Magic

I’ve been reading other writers lately, and the first of the year seems to make people want to find out why they are writers. “What or who influenced you to want to write”, they ask. Influences? Please, there are too many to count. Neil Gaiman likened it to compost:

…you don’t even necessarily understand [when you’re young] where all your influences are coming from, or what they can mean, nor should you. They compost down anyway, good influences, no matter how old you are. It’s like when you put the scraps onto your compost heap: eggshells, and it’s half-eaten turnips, and it’s apple cores, and the like. A year later, it’s black mulch that you can grow stuff in. And influences, good ones, are that too. Trying to figure out what’s influenced you is as difficult as taking the black mulch, and saying this used to be half an apple.

I was a reader before I ever thought about being a writer. Reading took me to places of magic. (I read a lot of fairy tales.) But I also read Pilgrim’s Progress, Little Women, and Black Beauty. I think writing allows an author to escape and build the world they want. That is where the magic comes in. Writing can transport. No matter where you write or what you write, there is magic in putting words together, whether in your journal, or letter to a friend.

Yes, I still write letters. I remember my grandmother used to enjoy writing to her brother in Michigan, and she loved getting letters in return. She wrote letters of several pages, and receiving a letter in return meant she explained that her brother, Fred, had gone to Michigan to find work. Then came family history and when her brother and his family visited, the writing came to life. Definitely, magic.