courtney keeps going

I can finally admit: I started my fourth book, “Reluctant Warrior: A Psychologist’s Breast Cancer Memoir & Emotional Survival Guide”.

I actually began writing several times over the past few years, but I was always sidelined by new breast cancer treatment complications, more surgeries, and unfolding chronic illnesses.

So, I decided to push myself, to really write the book this time, by entering a “Beginning Of Book” contest sponsored by a writing conference I’m attending this week. It was just the first 500 words, but I spent countless hours writing, editing, seeking reader feedback, editing some more, and finally submitting my work.

I was so proud of myself for putting my work out there! I was proud that I fully committed and wrote something I thought would become a beautiful and useful book someday.

That was the end of June.

And then, I found out a couple days ago…

One week before the contest results would be announced, they told me they somehow never received my submission. They said, “We’re so sorry, but it’s too late, because the results have already been tallied and submitted.”

I admit, I was extremely disappointed.

Disappointed, not only because if I’d placed in this contest it would be a great boost in pitching my book to agents (I have an agent pitch this week!), but also disappointed because I’d finally put myself out there, and well, it didn’t go as hoped.

Just like so much since my breast cancer journey began over five years ago. Disappointed is an understatement for how I’ve felt these past five plus years.

So, I let myself feel disappointed.

And then, I sought out and found the bright spots:

1) I wrote the first 500 words of my fourth book!

2) I actually shared it with complete strangers and opened it up for feedback!

3) Doing this prompted me to keep writing, and I’ve so far completed the first four chapters!

4) Also, in case you missed it above: I’m pitching “Reluctant Warrior” to an agent in just a few days! This is huge!

I may not have been able to participate in the contest, or win any awards, but I can share what I’ve written with all of you. And truthfully, your opinions, thoughts, and feedback are far more valuable to me than any judges’ feedback or contest could be.

In fact, I’ve decided to “blog my book.”

Yep. That means I’ve decided to share chapters as I complete them, to open these blog posts up to feedback from you. You, after all, are who I am writing this book for.

More than simply writing my own unbelievable breast cancer story, more than writing a powerful emotional survival guide for others going through breast cancer, more than anything, I want this book to be like my first book, This is How We Grow, in that it is a story to which everyone can somehow relate.

We all experience “wars” that force us into positions as warriors, reluctant as we may be. Be it loss, trauma, heartache, mental illness, physical illness, spiritual pain, or any other adversity, the feelings and how we can overcome them are similar.

I hope you find in my story some of your story.

I hope you find in my quest to find healing some ways that you might find healing.

And I really hope you will openly share your thoughts, questions, feedback, and whatever you think will help make this book the most inspiring and helpful book it can be. (Comment below)

If you’re interested in being an alpha or beta reader, receiving specific book updates, and being part of my “Reluctant Warrior” inner circle, add your name to our email list here:

Without further ado…I present to you…”Reluctant Warrior.”

RELUCTANT WARRIOR

I never wanted to be a warrior. I never wanted to have to fight, or be “brave,” or “strong,” or “inspiring.” I never wanted breast cancer to wage war on me.

But wage war, it did, and here I sit–almost five years to the day I heard those life-altering words, “It is cancer” –wondering, How did I get here?

How have I not only survived, but done so with a resilience I thought I’d embodied before, but couldn’t possibly have understood until cancer invaded? How did I keep showing up and doing the things I did not want to do? How did I do so with a raw honesty and vulnerability I never could have known had cancer not blitzed me, body, mind, and soul?

How did I become the warrior I never wanted to be?

Many cancer survivors eschew being called “warrior.” They reject the implication of having to “fight,” finding the idea of “winning” at cancer reprehensible. I too have wrestled with these heavy questions: What does it mean to fight? What does it mean to win? If I die, does that mean I “lost,” that I didn’t fight hard enough to “win”?

It’s the pressure that comes with being a “cancer warrior” that we survivors most resent–the pressure to be “tough,” to be “positive,” to be “inspiring,” the pressure to “overcome” the physical, mental, emotional, social and spiritual impact of cancer while looking and acting like a cancer poster-child, when really we’re just trying to survive. We’re doing what must be done. We didn’t have a choice.

It’s only now I can see the choice that is ours: Not the choice to fight nor win, but the choice of whether we’ll show up and go through whatever we must, whether we’ll hurt, scream, fall apart, and after, whether we’ll get up and begin again.

Real warriors aren’t pristine & smiling in their uniforms. They’re beat up, bloodied, battle-worn, and they’re showing up, doing the things that no one wants to do. Real war is messy, grueling, and traumatic. Cancer treatment is messy, grueling, and traumatic. Be it braving the treatments, or choosing no treatment at all; be it confronting the trauma, experiencing the grief, or making ourselves be where we do not want to be, but are: warriors do what must be done. We do what must be done.

I am a warrior.

So are you.