I’ve written a memoir called The Color of Resiliency. This is about my childhood. It’s about the trauma, abuse, and sexual abuse I endured through the age of seven. It also contains domestic abuse. The novel describes PTSD and schizoaffective disorder.
The first chapter is me revisiting my childhood home when I was nineteen. I lived in a bedroom with my siblings and we were treated like animals. We shit in a hole in the floor. They starved us. And when we were fed, it was condiments from the kitchen, like salt and sugar. We were sexually abused, forced to wear lingerie, and perform sex acts on other children our age. HRS (Human Resource Services) stepped in when I was in first grade because I was bone and skin and unable to make it to the bathroom on time. I was also very behind in my development as a first grader should have been.
My story fast forwards (November 2019) to a visit with a therapist while we go over my diagnoses, my past, and the current events of my life. I recently attempted suicide and then was admitted to a psychiatric facility. I was going through a divorce and got a demotion at my job.
My story then backtracks (January 2018) and I continue tackling each month at a time with each new chapter. And I write about the events currently happening to me and include either a flashback or nightmare in each chapter. I describe in great detail my panic attacks and anxiety. My book ends February 2021 when I was proposed to.
My jacket copy is as follows:
Franny’s mind is made of supernatural wonder. She ventures in and out of the ordinary world, burdened with a diagnosis that betrays her communal character. Medication is her only ‘coping mechanism.’ But in February 2018, tolerance takes its toll, and she’s hearing things, seeing things, that aren’t there. Sensory overload marbles her consciousness, and it has her MAD. Compulsion rears its ugly head, and she’s unstoppable. Rather than providing the support she needed, her tiny network of family and friends… well, became tinier.
What does she do when she’s hit with one thousand challenges all at once? She asks for a divorce, quits her job, and then collapses helplessly onto the pavement awaiting a Mack truck, expecting to gate the thrills of Hell. Despite her efforts, a cruiser picks her up, and instead, she is compelled to a psychiatric center.
From just about six feet under, she crawls deranged and hostile into another hole. And then another. And then another without a soul to stop her.
At her ‘rock bottom,’ you wouldn’t think she’d fall any longer, but she falls farther again, into love with a simple man, Paul. His presence draws Franny in with tangible safety. He has the drawl of a respectable cowboy, and he’s endearing to a fault. Slowly but surely, she climbs gingerly up and out of the holes, and with the support of Paul, she buries them with an affinity for life again.
This is my first novel. I’ve been on disability because of COVID and have had the time to achieve my dream of finally writing a novel. This is something I’ve wanted to do for fifteen years.
I’m looking for representation for this 123,000-word novel. I hope you enjoy the story, and I look forward to connecting with you.