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Nickii Fowler
Who is Nickii Fowler? No one special. Someone very special. Someone with an identity crisis and someone who knows exactly who she is. In truth, someone who isn’t very concerned abo...view moreWho is Nickii Fowler? No one special. Someone very special. Someone with an identity crisis and someone who knows exactly who she is. In truth, someone who isn’t very concerned about that. I am a vintage woman. Isn’t that nicer than ‘old broad’?
I have loved writing all of my life and spent many a day in grade school writing a story while listening to the teacher. I was always good at multiple tasking even before we had a name for it. At school, there was a following of students who avidly awaited the next installment of my latest scribblings. This continued all my years of school and overflowed into my working years. Until one day in my early twenties after completing three manuscripts that were accidentally tossed out, I began my long waltz with writers’ block.
Thirty-five blinkin’ years. I could write a report for work, write an essay in college, write a letter, re-write a play for church, but not one word for a story of my own. For those who haven’t experienced something like this, it’s extremely painful. For me, it’s not that I want to write, but that I have to write. Words, plots, and thoughts begin rolling around my head from the moment I wake up. They were there but wouldn’t form a line to travel down my arm and onto the page.
So, I oil painted, traveled around the world, worked in ceramics, made a few porcelain baby dolls for my mother, crocheted some blankets, took up beading for a while, and dabbled in creating stained glass, with a smidgeon of sandblasting glass. Always, there was a study of history and my beloved genealogy. All of my books have at least one of my actual ancestors in them and reflect some of what they experienced at that time in history.
Then came the time that I began taking care of my ailing parents. Mother had ovarian cancer and when approaching the end of her life my father suffered a massive hemorrhagic stroke, which left him unable to use his right side, or speak. I was Daddy’s full-time caregiver for seven years, the sole caregiver. I did everything for him, dressed him, got him into his wheelchair, and taught him how to feed himself. It was the hardest and the most wonderful seven years of my life. A blessing in a form I never expected. Had our positions been reversed they would have done the same for me. An act of true love.
After his death, my body woke up one day and said ‘I don’t have to be strong now.’ and I began losing the use of my right leg, and had the worst pain I had suffered in my life. I had no money, having used most of my savings on property taxes, my medical bills (no insurance), and paying my bills. After three years, I finally received help and was able to have a double bypass on the arteries in my leg. Difficult to recover from, fighting nerve damage, and as I was alone spent most of my time in bed (still do, I actually write in bed), it was too dangerous to walk around alone, you see, if I fell I couldn’t get up.
Just when the right leg was beginning to heal, the left one went bad. Same problem but much worse and the pain was horrific. To top it off, I am allergic to codeine. Thus there is very little pain medication that I can take. After a bypass on that leg the pain was still there, but tolerable.
For two more years, I hung on, spending a boring day after a boring day in bed watching television. Occasionally I was able to go out for a reason other than a doctor’s appointment, to ride along to pick up the kids from school, on the very rare occasion out to lunch. Talk about a total waste of a life.
Then a subtle shift began to take place, the pain was beginning to leave, I could manage to sit at my computer and read or send an email. Then one day in January of 2014, the fog began to clear, I sat at the computer and began to actually write! The words flew onto the page, and within seven months, I had finished a novel! The Funny thing was it was over 900 pages long. I have no idea what I was thinking.
So, I began splitting it up into four books, the birth of The de Clare Chronicles. How utterly remarkable. To date, I have written 8 books with 9 others in various stages of completion, and thoughts for three more rattling around in my head.
After eight years of being confined to bed, and thirty-five years of writer’s block, I’m back at it. My legs are improving, and walking much better, free of pain except for the odd twinge, and finally getting my strength back, but the balance is a bit harder to conquer.
It’s been an interesting road since 2000, but one that has left me grateful, humble and happy. I’ve conquered many obstacles and discovered how strong I actually am.
I’m Nickii Fowler – Author, and very proud of it.
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