Inspiration For The Best Part Of Us

My first memory of reading amazing works of fiction was in junior year of high school. Mrs. Barnes started the semester with E.M. Forster’s A Passage to India, moved on to Jane Austen’s Pride and Prejudice, and ended with A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man by James Joyce. Yikes. I’m sure I read Joyce at least five times and still felt clueless about the story’s meaning, even as I revelled in every word.

The beauty in how these authors strung words together into images and storylines transported me into their worlds, and the characters were infinitely more interesting than my family and most friends. I was hooked. Even if I didn’t know how to identify or understand the novels’ themes, I was sure I could write with the same substance, beauty and impact.

Ah, youth’s charm and stupidity. Mrs. Barnes was thoughtful and patient, but finally told me that journalism would take me places that my fiction writing never could, because those great authors wrote with an intense inspiration and imagination that take years, even decades to cultivate. I took her advice and headed to University of Missouri for an awesome journalism education, and spent the next 30 years writing in the fact-based environmental science, policy and communications world. 

While my passion for reading fiction never waned and I played with short stories occasionally, I found a different inspiration in environmental communications. Working with scientists, policymakers and environmental advocates who shared the same passion for nature as authors do for stories brought the natural world alive and gave my writing purpose in ways I hadn’t experienced before. 

As science has identified how humans impact the environment, it’s also discovered how nature affects us. More than 1,000 studies over the past forty years show that time spent in greenspace lowers our blood pressure and stress hormone levels, reduces anxiety and feelings of isolation, and improves mood and cognitive function. Beyond the exquisite vistas and escape from the noise and congestion of modern life when we vacation in natural places, mountains, trees, lakes and streams also release ions and chemicals that we absorb, and that further enhance our health and well-being.

Studies completed in the early 2000s also found that higher scores of connectedness to nature provide a strong sense that we are living life with purpose, fulfillment and satisfaction. The more connected we feel to nature, the more we sense a meaningful involvement in something larger than ourselves, a stronger interest in generosity, and a commitment to act to protect it. 

These studies changed the messaging in environmental communications. Thirty years ago as environmental protection was growing into adolescence, we focused on sharing information about how our lifestyles impact the majestic planet we live on, and the sometimes simple but often complicated and expensive choices we must make to restore and protect our water, land, and air.

This is still essential to communicate, but it’s no longer where we start. Now, the messaging focuses first on getting people outside to let nature feed the soul and body, help us to become more aware of the world around us as well as within, and heighten nature’s value in our lives. What we value, we act to protect.

Which brings me back to Mrs. Barnes, and the inspiration for The Best Part of Us. When I finished reading A Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man for the umpteenth time ten years ago, still determined to understand its themes and messages, I googled the benefits of reading fiction. Studies show that reading fiction is as beneficial as meditation or deep relaxation exercises for reducing stress. It helps us to sleep better, improves our self-esteem, builds vocabulary, expands our imagination, and slows mental decline later in life.

Fiction readers also deal with life’s ambiguities better because we’re used to unanswered questions. We know how to improve our relationships and become more empathetic because stories help us understand the complexities of social life and what another person’s life might be like. Reading fiction makes us happier and helps us want to make worthwhile contributions to the world.

Sound familiar?

That was the first time I put my two passions together: could I write an engaging novel that communicates the value of nature in our lives, and the role we play as part of the natural world, with my love for language and story? Where the setting is as much a character as the people? Where the story inspires readers to remember places and parts of nature that they care about, and at the same time provides the intellectual and emotional satisfaction of a good read, with complex characters and woven plotlines? That provides the same benefits to nature lovers when they read and to readers when they go exploring?

Ten years later, after a master’s certificate from Stanford University’s excellent online fiction writing program and 17 drafts, The Best Part of Us is the result.

The “official” line for the novel’s purpose is that I wrote about a woman who must decide whether to save herself and her connection with nature in order to explore the same choice humanity faces—for Earth will survive and heal, but our values and actions will determine whether humans and other species can as well. This is certainly true. My personal reason? To be absorbed in my two passions, which hopefully results in a thought-provoking, inspiring, fun and well-written read. Joyce or Austen? No. But, based on the positive reviews from literary folks and readers thus far, good enough—hopefully even for Mrs. Barnes.

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THE BEST PART OF US

Beth cherished her childhood summers on a pristine northern Canadian lake, where she reveled in the sweet smell of dew on early morning hikes, the loons’ evening trills across the lake’s many bays, every brush stroke of her brother’s paintings celebrating their cherished place, and their grandfather’s laughter as he welcomed neighbors to their annual Welsh harvest celebration. Theirs was an unshakeable bond with nature, family, and friends, renewed every summer on their island of granite and pines, as they lived peacefully alongside the Ojibwe Anishnabek.

But that bond was threatened and then torn apart, first as rights to their island were questioned and then by nature itself, and the family was forced to leave. Fourteen years later, Beth has created a new life in urban Chicago. There, she’s erected a solid barrier between the past and present, no matter how much it costs―until her grandfather asks her to return to the island to determine its fate. Will she choose to preserve who she has become, or risk everything to discover if what was lost still remains?

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Sally Cole-Misch is a writer and environmental communicator who advocates for the natural world through work and play. She holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism from the University of Missouri, a master’s degree in environmental education and international water policy from the University of Michigan, and a certificate in fiction writing from Stanford University. Throughout her career, she’s focused on communicating our essential connection with nature—particularly for the Great Lakes and other US-Canadian boundary waters through her work at the International Joint Commission—and the role each of us can play to restore, protect, and enjoy all that nature gives to us. Sally lives in the Great Lakes region of Michigan with her husband and son and enjoys hiking, kayaking, sailing, skiing, and gardening. See more on her website.

 

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Category: On Writing