For the past ten years, I wrote my book in isolation. Long hours in front of my computer at my home, or a coffee shop, library and on Amtrak traveling between our home in North Carolina to Washington DC or New York City, and in other spaces I can’t remember. Wherever the location, I rarely chatted with others.
Now I am sharing my thoughts about my book and publishing issues with other authors. A whole new network of fellow writers has opened up to me. I no longer struggle alone but can discuss my experiences with those that have walked along the same path.
I spotlighted Nightingale Tales: Stories from My Life as a Nurse, by Lynn Dow in November. The book described Lynn’s nursing education and early hospital experience that was very much like my own. I spoke with Lynn three weeks ago and more recently with another author, Antoinette Truglio Martin. Both women freely shared their experience in their journey to publication, which publicist they choose, and how they promoted their books. I’m looking forward to contacting more authors as I travel this road.
Getting back to Antoinette Truglio Martin. She wrote Hug Everyone You Know: A Year of Community, Courage, and Cancer. Yes, it’s about cancer but it is not a depressing book. In fact, the Antoinette’s story is a thoroughly enjoyable read about her life as a wife, mother, speech therapist and special education teacher. Cancer is a tangential occurrence in her busy, happy life. She writes:
“. . . The less attention and verbiage I gave this cancer, the less real it was in my day. This cancer is nothing more than a detour—not a chronic condition or terminal illness. Audible words, long dialogues, and ownership would provide it with an embodiment. I tried to keep that to a minimum. The treatment I was willingly putting myself through was aimed to kill any trace of cancer that might have been left behind from surgery (lumpectomy). I believed it was completely gone, and the chemo and radiation therapies served as insurance against a recurrence. This cancer did not deserve an audience and would never be referred to with the personal pronoun ‘my.’”
Antoinette balances her story between her encounters with oncologists, chemo and radiation treatments, and stories of her extended Italian family, living in Long Island near the Great South Bay, and being supported by a group of caring family and friends. Coincidentally, four of her friends were also undergoing treatment for breast cancer.
I happily followed as Antoinette, a self described “overly squeamish, wimpy crybaby” who passed out during a blood draw, as she took charge of her treatments and confronted rude, uncaring and unprofessional medical staff.
One does not have to be faced with a cancer diagnosis to enjoy this book. Hug Everyone You Know opens a window on what it is like to navigate the health care system with a frightening illness. Antoinette educates us with a tender, engaging story that we will not soon forget.