An Ever-Present "Now"

with guest author, Carrie Karnes-Fannin

Today, I'm excited to share some inspiring words from a fellow KidLit author and editor, Carrie Karnes-Fannin. Carrie and I met when we were both chosen to participate in the #PBChat mentorship program in 2020, and I'm so glad she took the time to share part of her journey with us. In addition to her inspiring words, she was generous to share some of her beautiful photography as well.

The first photograph is a photo she took on a trip to Milledgeville, Georgia, to visit Flannery O’Connor’s beloved farm Andalusia, now a museum. Her famous peacocks are gone now, but reminders of them remain.

The second photo features Flannery O'Connor's writing desk. Flannery came down with lupus as a young adult and eventually passed from complications that illness. All through it she kept writing. Her crutches can be seen off to one side of her writing desk. Such powerful images for this blog!  

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"I come from a family where the only emotion respectable to show is irritation. In some this tendency produces hives, in others literature, in me both."― Flannery O'Connor

I've been thinking about something I learned at the beginning of my freshman year of college.

Reporting to Comparative Lit 101 the first time, I found a motley crew of kids in their late teens mixed with adults returning to their education later in life, most of whom were focused on practical degrees such as nursing or accounting. We first needed to learn the proper language of literature before discussing the world's greatest stories and their creators. The professor was at pains to explain that we say, "O'Connor writes…" no matter that Flannery and her magnificent mind has been gone from us for sixty years.

One quirky, but magical thing about authors is that they exist in an ever-present "now."

This thought has stuck with me all these years, especially since I began my own writing journey. One quirky but magical thing about authors is that they exist in an ever-present "now." Time, illness, absence, death…all are suspended for the creative within their work. The author is always present on the page for us, the reader, speaking in our ears.

But as an author living with chronic illness, showing up to craft those stories is hard, especially when brain fog, fatigue, icky side effects, and pain take over and insert themselves between me and the words I'm trying to capture. My creativity is subject to forces that are unpredictable and outside of my control.

You'd think after decades of living with illness that I'd be serene about the vicissitudes that come with it as a package deal.

No.

When a page takes a day...a week...a month…I won't lie here. Sometimes (often), it drives me berserk. I can work myself up to a level of irritation Flannery herself would recognize and respect. Unfortunately, giving myself over to that irritation only makes me feel worse and doesn't get the words down faster.

Lately, though, I've come to a hard-earned conclusion: It's okay.

Another memory from those college days is one of the earliest online memes: "On the Internet, no one can tell if you're a dog."

Inside of a story, no one can tell that you (the author) took time off to tend to yourself.

Well, inside of a story, no one can tell that you (the author) took time off to tend to yourself. With apologies to Stephen King and his famous 2,000 words a day —you can write at your pace, the one that works for you and you alone. No one is looking.

And as for our work, to it no time has passed. It renders no judgment. The work lives alongside us, the author, ready to welcome us back whenever we're ready. It is always now.

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CARRIE KARNES-FANNIN is a full-time writer for kids and an editor/illustrator with the Little Thoughts Press. She enjoys photography, hiking, and re-reading the works of comedic genius Douglas Adams. She believes “42” answers “the ultimate question of life, the universe, and everything,” but unfortunately has mislaid her towel. Carrie lives in the Appalachian foothills with her husband, their groovy dog named Bodhi, and fond memories of her muse Langston—a perfectionist cat who would be grumpy about being last on this list.” Visit her website.

Photo credits: Carrie Karnes-Fannin from the Flannery O'Connor museum