Do you know what it’s like to be left out of the inside joke? To be the one who missed the great concert, or the inspiring speech, or the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity?

“Oh, it was hilarious. You had to be there.”

“She was so inpsiring. I can’t do it justice. You should have been there.”

“Trust me. If you’d been there, you’d understand.”

Believe me. I know what that feels like. I live in Brazil and much of the writing community I am a part of is in the US. I miss most of the best conferences. I miss out on the productive in-person critique sessions. I miss the booksignings and book releases and reading the best and brightest of the newest books to hit the shelves. I’m always just a step or two behind, it seems.

Even with my own book. My debut picture book, ME WITH YOU, published by Philomel and illustrated by Christopher Denise, released this past week. I’m currently 6,000 miles away in Brazil. I won’t actually walk into a store and pick up my book off the shelf until sometime in July when I’m due for a visit to the US.

I’ve had plenty of friends to send me pictures and share the fun of this first book release, though, and you know something I’ve realized?

You don’t actually have to be there.

I have been living vicariously through the joy my writing friends have expressed for me. As they have sought out my book and taken pictures of it on the shelf for me, my own emotion about the book’s release has been expanded time and again.

And I’ve realized something else. If we actually have to be there IN THE MOMENT to understand the emotion of a situation, then what are we writers for? Isn’t one of the purposes of good literature the opportunity it gives the reader for emotional rehearsal, the understanding it brings to the reader who has never experienced a particular situation but as he or she reads about it, she practices how his/her own response might be?

In her highly readable book, READING MAGIC, Mem Fox says:

The whole point of books is to allow us to experience…realities that are different from our own, to feel the appropriate emotions, to empathize, to make judgements, and to have our interest held. If we sanitize everything children read, how much more shocking and confusing will the real world be when they finally have to face it?

It’s true in my own life as I look back at the books that influenced me. I was never an orphan but the practice I had (from Anne of Green Gables and Julie from Up a Road Slowly) in compassion and justice and spirit served me well when as an adult I moved 6,000 miles away from everything and everyone I’d ever known. I was not a debutante in 19th century society but living vicariously through Elizabeth Bennet gave me the courage to speak for myself, as well as a few hints of when I should keep my mouth shut. My list could go on and on.

In a way, that’s what these pictures of my book on the shelves have done for me too. They’ve subtly prepared me for the excitement of seeing my book on the shelf for the first time, so that I don’t have to collapse into a heap on the floor, breathing in and out of a paper bag, trying not to hyperventilate.

As a writer, THAT is how I want to write:  in a way that communicates the depth or breadth or height of a situation, that gives the reader a “picture” window into their own souls, a way to connect what they are reading on the page with what they’ve already experienced and that subtly prepares them for what they haven’t yet experienced.

They don’t actually have to be there . . . but one day they might be, and they’ll be ready.

Related posts:

1. Connect with Kristy Dempsey: Book Signing Etiquette
2. ME WITH YOU by Kristy Dempsey
3. Connect with CHERYL RENEE HERBSMAN: Why I love YA!
4. Connect with CHERYL RENÉE HERBSMAN: On Inspiration
5. Connect With Amy Brecount White