12 February 2019

Since my first novel, When a Woman Rises, was released on September 10^th I’ve had the opportunity to do readings in places as different as the English Bookshop in Uppsala Sweden and the Casa Camino Real, a bookshop on the old royal road between Mexico City and Santa Fe. At each reading I’ve felt the power of novels to reach people in ways that non-fiction often has less success. But one occasion in particular stands out to me.

It was an evening in November 2018 and I had just finished reading to a small gathering of university students. They seemed engaged and gave me a generous applause when I finished. As they began to talk and look at the table of books and some textiles from Chiapas, a young woman with long black hair came toward me. She pulled up a chair and sat down, as if she had something to say that might take a while. I sat down, too, and leaned in to listen carefully as her voice was quiet and serious.

First she introduced herself as Navajo. Then she told me that like Lucia in my novel she has had dreams calling her to serve her people as a medicine woman. She talked about the spirit beings and the four sacred mountains of the Diné people that had come in her dreams to teach her. She mentioned that her father and brother were spiritual people, but they were back home on the reservation and she was really afraid of what her dreams mean in her life. Then she said that when she heard me read how Lucia, another native woman of the Americas, had a dream to be a healer she felt less afraid and relieved not to be alone.

A few people were waiting for me to sign their books and I couldn’t give the young woman the attention she deserved. So I gave her my card and asked her to call me so we could talk more. Later she came with a copy of my book for me to sign. Then she asked for a photo of us together and I asked for one of us, too.

On the way home that night I thought that perhaps this is what happens when one writes a novel. You have to be ready for sacred encounters. I feel blessed to have had such an encounter and to know that Lucia’s story has encouraged a Navajo woman on her spiritual path. Driving home that night I felt as if all along I was writing my novel for this one young woman and that if no one else reads it, it will have served its purpose.

P.S. I didn’t use the young woman’s name here because I’m still waiting for her to call. If I hear from her and she agrees, I’ll acknowledge her in a future blog post.