“I’ve been able to work for so long because I think next time, I’ll finally make something good.”
Alira Kurosawa, film producer and director
Several years ago, my younger brother and his wife sold their Raleigh home, where they raised their three beautiful children, and moved to another state. In the midst of this hectic and somewhat traumatic period, his wife came upon one of my earliest manuscripts. It was entitled The Quilt, and this is its story.
Twenty-seven years ago, my mother’s mother started work on a quilt for us as a wedding present. But then she had her stroke, and sewing became impossible. Someone from her home town of Smithfield heard about this, and volunteered to help. Over the next several months my grandmother’s last work was passed from one quilting group to another, until it was finished and sent to us three weeks after our wedding.
When the gift arrived in Germany and Isabella – my new wife – started to open the box, I told her she had to stop, there was such an intense feeling of having my grandmother there in the room with us. I wanted to capture this on the page. I took the unopened box into my study, and spent the next six weeks writing the story. Only when The Quilt was finished did I let Isabella see our wedding gift.
We had to postpone our honeymoon because we were both working on very tight schedules. Three months later, we flew first to Minneapolis and met with the publishers of my first book. Then we flew to Hawaii.
On the flight from Europe, I gave Isabella this very same copy of The Quilt that my sister-in-law had recently sent us.
Isabella just bawled.
The stewardess knew we were going on our honeymoon, and assumed I had done something awful to upset my new bride. They gave Isabella several bottles of champagne and refused to speak to me for the rest of the transatlantic flight.
When we landed in Minneapolis, Isabella insisted that I send my grandmother the story. She refused to wait until we arrived in North Carolina, the last stop on our journey, and allow me to hand-deliver it. She was absolutely certain that my grandmother needed to see this now.
Then on our return from Hawaii, at a stopover in Saint Louis, I phoned my sister to say that our flight had been delayed. She told me that my grandmother had passed on, and the funeral was that very day.
We went straight from the Raleigh airport to the church.
After the service, people started coming up to us, embracing us both, and telling us how The Quilt had become the last thing my grandmother read before she passed on. In her final days speech became quite difficult. So when friends and family came to visit, she asked them to read to her from this very manuscript.
I’m holding the manuscript now, as I write these words.
There are coffee-cup stains and smudge marks on almost every page. These people, many of whom I had never met, kept hugging Isabella and myself, telling us that they had become our friends through those hours, and how much it had meant to share that story with my grandmother.
The story might well have ended here. And it did, for five long years.
The Quilt was too short to be published as a novel, and too long to sell as a short story. It occupied a nebulous world of strong emotions and sentimentality, and I was developing a reputation as a writer of mysteries and contemporary drama.
Five years.
Soon after the Iron Curtain came crashing down, my wife and I traveled to Eastern Europe so that I might research the second of a trilogy based in Poland, the former East Germany, and the Ukraine. I came down with an amoebic infection of my liver and gall bladder that rendered me exhausted for almost three months. During that time, my new British publisher came for the weekend, and since I was going to bed around five in the afternoon, I gave them this manuscript to read. Why exactly I chose this story, I have no idea.
Two days later, they called and offered me a contract.
The Quilt went on to become the first novel in almost forty years to be selected as the Book of Lent for the Anglican church.
As often happens in this strange business, once interest was shown by somebody else, US publishers were swift to climb on board. The Quilt went on to become a national bestseller. There are more than four hundred thousand copies in print. Most recently Hallmark republished it as a coffee-table giftbook, with original photography.
The reason I wanted to share this with you is as an example of what you may also very well face. Entering into the commercial world of art virtually guarantees periods of uncertainty and upheaval. In the midst of such chaos and mixed emotions there are so many opportunities to quit, and so many good reasons to justify that step.
I would like to tell you that The Quilt was the last of my books to be rejected, only to later become a bestseller. I would like even more to say that once I achieved national recognition the process went a lot more smoothly.
But here and now we are dealing with truth.
Do This Now:
- See yourself as building a foundation upon solid rock.
- Your aim is not merely to develop a space and discipline that promotes creative productivity. You are establishing a sense of vision.
- Today, in this brief moment, look beyond the immediate. Capture a brief hint of the horizon. The goals are there. They can be achieved.
- Seize the day.
Davis Bunn’s novels have sold in excess of eight million copies in twenty-four languages. He has appeared on numerous national bestseller lists, and his titles have been Main or Featured Selections with every major US book club. In 2011 his novel Lion of Babylon was named Best Book of the Year by Library Journal. The sequel, entitled Rare Earth, won Davis his fourth Christy Award for Excellence in Fiction in 2013. In 2014 Davis was granted the Lifetime Achievement award by the Christy board of judges. His recent title Trial Run has been named Best Book of The Year by Suspense Magazine. Lately he has appeared on the cover of Southern Writers Magazine and Publishers Weekly, and in the past three years his titles have earned him Best Book and Top Pick awards from Library Journal, Romantic Times, Publishers Weekly, Booklist, and Kirkus. His most recent series, Miramar Bay, have been acquired for world-wide condensation-books by Readers Digest. Currently Davis serves as Writer-In-Residence at Regent’s Park College, Oxford University. Until Covid struck, he was speaking around the world on aspects of creative writing.
Watch an excerpt from his new book The Cottage on Lighthouse Lane here.
