What inspired me to become an author? “That could be a book, Norah!” or “Norah, you should write a book about all of that” I have heard people tell me over the years when I would share little bits and pieces of my family history. I allowed their words go in one ear and out the other, but never once attempted to think of writing a book; how would I do that? I was not good in English classes and where would I begin the story?
I remember the very day I began to toy with these thoughts to myself for the first time about writing a book! I was 50 years young, in bed thinking of the secrets in my heart that was over 40 years ago but was still so vividly real. All of a sudden, I began to say in my heart “yes, I will write a book!” Somewhere deep inside me, I felt a struggle of resistance cease. I stopped wrestling with myself that night; only to stare into the darkness of wondering what title would my book be called? I had no idea. Then God spoke to my heart and told me He had already given me the title of the book.
He took my thoughts way back to a crisp afternoon in the late fall; it had rained the day before and the streets were dotted with muddy water that was splashed onto the sidewalks by the cars. There a skinny young girl of 10 years old, long thick braided hair hung down to her waist; her face was taunt against the chill as she hurried along alone clutching her woolen coat with missing buttons but pinned up around her cheeks. Keeping a distance from the projected action of the spinning tires hitting and splashing water onto her pathway and dodging the bullies from the forever teasing students from pulling her braids. I knew that girl. She walked up and down that same sidewalk every school day alone in the crowd. Sometimes she would day dream of summer days in the sun and most of the time she held back tears from everyday hardships at home, but this day she was thinking about her future. She didn’t want much out of life; she didn’t know much to want much. She was cold, she wore old dirty hand-me-down-clothes; she smelled of old stale smoke form her stepfathers’ chain- smoking, she hated it all with a quiet passion. I could remember how that young girl of 10 thought and felt. How could I forget her even when she is no longer a little girl now?
I watched from the window of my memory as the eyes of that little girl and I looked at the passing cars and began to block the surroundings away with all “our” heart when somehow, she began to hear words that began to sound like a chant hanging over her head. “HEAT-RUNNING WATER-&-BATHROOM” this was all she wanted in life as she grew up! At home there was no heat, no water, and no bathroom! Life was ugly! School was torcher. I should be able to tell that little girls’ story, of course, I can, and I will I thought, because that little girl was me!
I sat up in my bed in the dark knowing that God had given me the title of a book then 40 years ago. What more did I need to be encouraged to write a book? I needed to start somewhere; so that is where my book will start, from the beginning like every story has a beginning it also has an author! What made me want to become an author?
Having a story to tell; that is what made me want to write a book of my own and become an Author!
Best,
Author Norah Wilson
