There’s always a story behind the story.

Before I share the story behind my book, Turkey in the Tunnel, I’d like to share a few other stories you may already be familiar with . . .

Remember And To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street by Dr. Suess? Theodore Geisel had just returned from an eight day boat trip from Europe. The rhythmic chug-chug-chugging of the boat engine stuck in his mind which brought him to write this story in rhyme. Why Mulberry Street? This was a street in Theodore’s hometown. After 27 rejections, he was about to toss it in the garbage, when he happened to walk by an old friend that had just been hired as an editor by a children’s publisher. It wasn’t long before it was given the green light. Without a boat ride and a walk down a certain side of a street on a certain day, he may never have become a children’s author!

The book, Where the Wild Things Are, was originally going to be called, Where the Wild Horses Are, but Maurice Sendak couldn’t draw horses so he created wild beasts. Maurice’s childhood nick name was “wild thing” in Yiddish and much of this story is based on his Jewish growing up in Brooklyn during complex and dangerous times. Just like Max, Sendik never liked bedtime and wanted the freedom to stay up having fun like his parents. You can find out more here.

Did you know Mary Pope Osbourne, the prolific writer of The Magic Tree House series, starting writing these books while working in a homeless teen shelter? She found that for teens “writing themselves into stories had a major effect on them.” Growing up in a military family gave her addresses all over the world. She says of her experiences, “Moving was never traumatic for me, but staying in one place was.”  “Random House Children’s Books Presents Mary Pope Osborne” (PDF). (Random House Children’s Book. Random House. Retrieved 16 March 2018). Knowing this, it’s not hard to believe that there would be lots of exciting stories behind Osbourne’s The Magic Treehouse series.

If this peeked your interest for stories behind the stories, here’s a great resource for more . . .

Now for the story behind Turkey in the Tunnel . . .

I had NO intention of writing a story about a turkey, but whenever I gave a school presentation with my first book, Turtle on the Track, kids would ask, “When will you write the turkey book?” (If you’ve read Turtle on the Track you’d understand.) “I have noooo idea,” I’d say. Little did they know how much I meant that! I was living in Writer’s-Block-World for almost a year. I had no ideas. No words. I froze at my computer. That’s hard on a writer.

I attributed my freeze to the turn my life had taken over recent years. My husband’s physical and mental health was deteriorating. I was living a life so foreign, so unexpected, so confusing I couldn’t think straight, much less create. After years of turmoil, counsel, and research we were finally getting some answers. But not the answers we wanted. He was diagnosed with Lewy Body Dementia. LBD is the most common form of dementia, second to Alzheimers. This healthy, athletic, life-long academic, inquisitive learner, smiley guy was handed a diploma he never set out to get. His greatest fear had come true—he was literally losing his mind and body. When his life seemed to stop, so did mine.

One trait of Lewy Body disease is unpredictability. One day is one day. What stares you in the face one morning doesn’t necessarily stare you in the face the next. The ups and downs are relentless. There’s a reason they call it a roller coaster ride. What used to come naturally, doesn’t come easily and eventually not at all. Telling time, making a bed, conversing with friends, even home-sweet-home can become a stranger—all evidences of this heart wrenching, terminal disease.

The last few years I’ve felt like I’ve lived in a tunnel.

Tunnels can be dark. The light at the end can disappear by a curve that takes you by surprise. And when you come out of one turn, there’s another, and pretty soon you aren’t sure what direction you’re headed.

But in time, writer’s block faded . . . thank goodness.

Since Turkey appeared in Turtle’s book, and kids everywhere were asking about him, I started there. That’s why I credit Turtle for inspiring Turkey.

Turkey in the Tunnel came in just a few sittings.

The impetus for the story began with a question that hounds everyone at one time or another, “How will I get through this?”

It’s a question that begs for help and hope. A question that, I’m first to admit, can’t be answered in a 470 word children’s book. But if a story can soften a blow or clear up some clouds, I consider it a win.

As the story unfolded, I wasn’t sure what would happen to Turkey or how the story would end. Authors of children’s books often say they don’t know where the writing will take them. It’s true. Sometimes the characters take you places and you follow.

I know . . . writers can be a weird bunch.

I didn’t write Turkey to explain my dark tunnel, or how to find a way out, or how brave I am. I don’t always have the words for where I am, I’m certainly not out, and I’m not that brave.

But as it turned out, Turkey and I have quite a bit in common—I have friends to help me in the darkness, memories to help me stand strong, and faith to carry me through.

I’m surprised how frequently I find myself recalling the story’s message: Sometimes “out” is straight on through.

Can a light-hearted story of a turkey afraid to fly give hope? Can it be a reminder to persevere when things get tough? Only my readers can answer that.

I pray it will be a seed of hope when you’re in the dark, a whisper of perseverance when you’re tired, and a call to courage when you’re afraid.

May it help you believe in the dark what you know to be true in the light.

May it be a catalyst to talk about fears, no matter how big or small, with those you love.

At the very least, may it bring you a smile and a good snuggle with the ones you share it with.

Sometimes that’s all we need.

Perhaps, you’ll discover your own story behind Turkey’s story.