Why I’ve Been So Quiet
I’ve approached this post from every possible angle, then backed away without writing anything. But this way will have to be the one.
Last year was a tough, often scary year. You didn’t hear from me much, but I still popped in when I could on Twitter and Facebook, and I did manage to write a new book, which comes out in a few days. (We’ll talk about that later.) But a few months ago, the tough, often scary year took a turn that knocked the wind out of me and kept me from even popping in to say hi to you all on Facebook.
My husband passed away.
That single sentence is so very hard to write, and I don’t really want to go too much into what happened quite yet. Rehashing it is super exhausting in a lot of ways. But I want to reassure you that I’m okay. Some days I’m less okay than others, but I’m more okay than I thought I could be. I’m also surrounded by people who love me and are watching out for me. I am not alone on this journey.
And Kevin loved me so much in the time we had together, his love is sustaining me still.
So. Yeah. I’m trying to get back into the swing of things. As I ease out of my hermit cave, I find I have a lot more time on my hands to create new stories for you. I will have lots of announcements in the coming weeks and months, and my activities in Socialmedialand should increase gradually. In fact, there will probably be a huge increase in blog posts, especially posts unrelated to my books. And quite possibly a weird little YouTube project.
Because what doesn’t kill us makes us hilarious.
Anyway. There it is. The terrible thing happened. In a day or so, I’ll tell you about the book that comes out next week, but poor Kam shouldn’t have to share her release with a post like this.
Thank you all for being so patient while I disappeared. I missed you.
See you real soon,
Rachel
My condolences.
Thank you, Bella.
I am so so sorry! [cyber hugs] I am currently binge listening to your books (which I’ve read before). Your stories keep me company better than a person sitting in the vehicle with me, so thank you. I hate to drive, so listening to a good story to and from work, with characters I’m invested in, really helps. Please take care of yourself.
Cathie, thank you so much for this. I’m tempted to print it out and tape it over my desk when I get back to work to remind myself why I write.
*hugs* friend.
Thanks, James. xoxo
Rachel,
I cannot imagine the pain of losing a spouse and saying, “I am sorry for your loss,†always comes across as a hollow platitude. As I am sure you are aware, you have to explain your absence to no one. Your reasons are your own and you have no obligations to explain or justify.
I fell in love with Monster in My Closet and will continue watching for and reading your books regardless of how often you publish. So will everyone else. You are a gifted storyteller and your audience will not abandon you.
I am sure you have heard this before but I am going to say it anyway; take your time, grieve, cherish your memories and the time you and your love shared. Write when and only if you feel like it. Your timing is your own and it is okay to take as much as you need, whenever you need or want it. Just breathe and don’t give up.
You are in my thoughts and I am wishing your soul peace as you journey through this miserable experience.
Jessica, being kind to myself is a lesson I’m trying to learn through all this. It’s good advice, and I’m trying like crazy to follow it. My focus hasn’t actually been on myself much for a long time. Thank you for the kind thoughts about my books, too. I’ll take my time, but I think getting back to work would help, too. I promise not to push too hard, but I’m hoping once I get back to it, the words will pour out.
Oh sweet girl, words are completely inadequate but I am so very sorry for your loss. I lost my kiddos father about a year and a half after we divorced. It’s been 3 years sometimes it still knocks the wind from me. It’s a very very strange place to be. There is a FB page called the Wifow Chick I follow that’s relatable at times. Be kind to yourself XOXO
Thank’s Stephanie. It’s so hard to imagine the person you’ve lost is just…gone, isn’t it? I will check out the Widow Chick page. I’m thinking this blog might start getting posts from time to time about the funnier, unexpected parts of being a new widow. I had to buy more underwear. I kept running out before I had a full load of laundry. Who knew?
Rachel,
I feel compelled to comment.
2018 has been…so terrible for so many. It’s strange, like some sort of pall was cast over the entire year. I lost my brother,my soul twin. My sister in law lost her soul mate. While I can not say I understand precisely…I can say I do know your pain, and have supported someone who intimately knows your loss. I find words completely inadequate when it comes to the death of someone you loved dearly, every time. But I hoped to offer you some…well I’m not sure what. Support I suppose.
Please, take all the time you need. It’s a profound, devastating, shattering ordeal that changes you forever. Not only does it weigh heavily on your psyche, but your physiology as well. I though my MS was bad enough, grief on top of it nearly crippled me.
I just wanted to extend a hand as it seems so many of us this year need one another. I am glad you have a good support system.
Don’t let anyone rush you.
Love, Hugs, and the Best possible to You,
Mandarin
Mandarin, what a terrible thing, to lose a close sibling. I’m sending love back to you. I’ll keep your advice close to my heart. You’re right that grief also takes a physical toll. I’m so very tired sometimes. And yet, I have to sneak up on sleep if I want to have any of it. This is a process. As much as I’d like to speed through it, I’ve got to let myself heal. I hope your heart, and that of your sister-in-law is healing as well.
I love you little one. I am praying for you and hope you will be okay.In Feb. it will be two years since Don passed away. Some days are good and some aren’t so good.
You are a strong woman that was blessed with the love of her life. Be thankful you got the chance to experience that kind of love.
Keep writing , you are great at it.
Auntie Pat
Pat, I can’t imagine how hard it must be for you. Don was with you for nearly your whole life. That’s a huge hole to fill. Thank you for all the love. xoxo
My heart is breaking for you. Three things I want you to remember – there is no time limit on grief, no right or wrong way to grieve; all of us that love your work, love you so pick up the phone or send a text or am email (doesn’t matter when, we are all open 24/7); check out Grief Anonymous. My best friend’s husband passed away two years ago and, just like you, she was completely destroyed. They have helped her cope. One more thing – one of my favorites -When you cannot stand in the light, I will sit with you in the dark.
Thank you, Linda. My family and friends are making sure I don’t hide away in my house, despite my attempts. The holidays are behind me, now, so I’m hoping it will get a little easier. It might be time soon to take a little drive to Wichita and visit with the wonderful book club down there. 🙂
We would be ecstatic to have you join us again! Please do whatever it takes to help you and your family heal – without any guilt for doing what you need to do. All your fans will be right here when you are ready for us. Love and thoughts and prayers and hugs to you and yours.
I was recently advised to stop “shoulding all over myself.” I’m trying. And I’ll let you know when I’m ready to head your way!
I know “sorry†doesn’t really help, but I’m sorry nonetheless. This is one of my greatest fears, and I can only imagine how great a hole it must tear in your life. I’m glad you’re not alone. Your stories and your characters have been such a blessing and comfort to all of us, and I hope you’re able to find some comfort in them now, as well. Take all the time you need, and we’ll all be here when you’re ready.
Honestly, it was always my greatest fear, too. It’s kind of odd not having that fear anymore.
Thank you for your kindness, Stephanie. I hope I can continue to make people smile as I get back into the swing of things. My next book is about Sara and Maurice. I think I’ll be comforted in writing it as spending time with old friends. 🙂
My heart felt sympathy.
Thank you, Lisa.
So sorry for your loss. I know that sometimes the hardest thing to do is get out of bed. While dealing with the loss of my sons, I found a book about a closet monster. Reading it gave me a little escape,a needed break while my heart was breaking. I hope your writing gives you what you have given me.
Oh, Sharon, what a terrible thing to go through. I’m happy my book gave you a place to escape to for a little while. I’ll keep writing for both of us.
Dear Rachel. I am so sorry that you have lost your husband. I don’t know how I will ever survive such a loss. My husband is my best friend!
I found your books several years ago and they have helped me…entertained me through some of my darkest moments. I love a good urban fantasy with giggles.
I lost my son, Nicky, 12 years ago. He was almost 16. My entire world collapsed around me, my husband Paul and our 12 year old daughter Madeleine. I thank God for the way we three clung together…supporting each other through the nightmare. Grief should never keep to a timetable…and even 12 years later we are still incapacitated by anniversaries and birthdays…let alone Mother’s and Father’s Day…but we are still breathing and surviving.
“Bereavement is a darkness impenetrable to the imagination of the unbereaved.”
–Iris Murdoch
This quote speaks to me…perhaps it will speak to you.
I will always look forward to any new books from you whenever you can put pen to paper.
Thank you,
Tamara Baff
So sorry, sending prayers
Your struggle is ongoing. Know that those of us who love your books understand that everyone goes through tough times and it affects us in different ways. Learning to live all over again is messy, painful and is done one day or hour at a time. Be well and do what YOU need to do to move forward.
Sharon