Redemption in Shoe Leather
I just got off the phone with a writer from the Walla Walla Union Bulletin. I’ve spoken to more
journalists in the past week than I have in the past year. That’s good news because it means the press — the people who have to write these headlines stories that readers find too troubling to read — have an appreciation for Karly’s story. They are pulling for this book. They want readers to embrace it so that they can quit reporting on mothers who put babies in microwaves or boyfriends who torture children to death.
These journalists all ask me the same question — How did you do this?
It’s not a matter of technique they are seeking. They, after all, understand better than most the tedious process of pouring over court records and investigative reports.
What they want to know is how did I do this emotionally?
Some of you who have read the book (thank you) have wondered the same thing. You probably are curious as to whether I drank myself through this book. (No.) Or whether I was in therapy for it. (Not yet).
I don’t think any of you regular readers of this blog figure me for being the cold-hearted type. So you know I didn’t remove myself from it. You know that I’ve done what I always do — plunged in head first.
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