Jamieson Wolf
Number-one bestselling author
The Other Side of Oz – Out Now!
In 2013, the world as I knew it changed.
I woke up on new years eve day and I no longer knew my own body. Over time, I would have pieces of myself taken from me: my balance, coordination, the ability to speak, see and type. It took a little while until I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis.
I had to relearn to do a lot of things that had been commonplace. I had to learn to walk again, speak properly and to find a way forwards with a disease that was not welcome. I think the hardest thing was losing the ability to type and having to relearn how to do so.
Prior to the MS, it was nothing for me to write 20,000 words on the weekend and I always had another book coming out. Writing for me was the way with which I interacted with the world and the way that I expressed myself the best. Losing the ability to write was like losing part of myself. I would look back at all the words I had written and wondered if I would ever write again.
I had to retrain my hands to type on the keyboard. I started with trying my hand at poetry, writing one to five words a day until I could stitch together a poem. It took a long time to learn how to do this, to train my brain and my body to type again, but I did it. It was only one of the mountains that I’ve had to climb.
After some time, I felt comfortable trying to write a novel again. The Other Side of Oz was that novel. It took such a long time to write this book, made even more difficult by the trauma that the book is about and the trauma that I was going through. There was something so therapeutic about writing The Other Side of Oz. It healed me in a lot of ways and though the journey with this novella was a long one, it was a journey that I needed to go on. Though it’s short, this novella took so much from me but it gave me so much, too.
In writing The Other Side of Oz, I was able to find a part of myself within the story. I was able to find my way home.
It seemed so right that I found myself within the land of Oz. As a child, I read and re-read the Oz books and the world seemed so alive to me. When I was recovering from the first wave of the MS, Oz again provided that comfort to me and I lost myself within its pages.
It’s sat in my hard drive ever since then. It’s sat in my hard drive for eight years and I always wondered what I would do with it yet content to let it hide there in the dark forever if need be. Why then am I releasing it now? I think it’s because my MS has changed, I’ve had relapses and the MS has worsened. It seemed the right time to release it. As I go on this new journey with my MS, I was reminded of Justin’s journey in The Other Side of Oz.
I hope you enjoy Justin’s journey and the truth he learns about himself.
You can get your copy here:
Welcome back to Oz and the wonders that it holds. May you find a part of yourself there. Put on the rub slippers and see where they will take you.
Beyond the Stone – First Review!
I’m beyond excited!
My novel Beyond the Stone got its first review! It’s so gratifying that this reader enjoyed the book so much. It’s so different from anything I’ve tried to write before.
My novels are normally character driven with little focus on the setting or where the novel takes place. Some of my books aren’t even set anywhere and all the focus is on the characters. Beyond the Stone and the rest of the series are set in a world where everything has broken apart and magic has come out in the open.
This is my take on dystopia, a genre that has always interested me. What would happen it a cataclysmic event happened? How would the characters survive? That has always fascinated me and I wondered what my characters would do if put in such a situation. I knew that if I was going to write a dystopian novel, the setting and the world building would have to be like a character in the novel.
I’m so glad that came through for the reviewer. I had such a fabulous time writing Beyond the Stone and I’ve started writing the second book Within the Flame where the story takes us to even darker places within the world I’ve created.
You can find the book here:
If you read it, I’d appreciate a review so much!
The Minotaur – First Draft DONE!!!
Oh, my goodness. I wrote 2,565 words today and the first draft of my novel The Minotaur is finished. The novel took me eight months to write.
It all started with the first line that popped into my head and wouldn’t leave me alone: “We were friendly with the dark.” As the story took shape in my head, I knew that the novel would be set in a labyrinth and that it would be an allegory on Covid in some way, in that everyone in the labyrinth was together but isolated, under constant threat from the minotaur. I knew that my protagonist was a young girl but other than that, I knew nothing.
I thought the novel would be a novella, that it would be a short little story that would be quick to write so that I could move on to the next story; there is always another story waiting to be written. Yet, somehow, my mind stayed with this story and with Roanne’s journey. I actually took time to plot out this book which is something I don’t normally do. I had to create and visualize the world of the labyrinth. I had to think of the secrets that this labyrinth held and what I wanted to do.
And yet, the ending of the novel came to me early on. As I continued to write, I wondered if I would be able to get there, if I could make the ending work. I’m thrilled to say that after 81,763 words, I arrived at the ending I envisioned so many months ago.
Time to take a breather, step away from the computer and read something wonderful. I will be having a glass of wine in celebration tonight.
Miracle – A Poem
A memory:
She is surrounded
by all the kids in my class.
She looks like some kind of
prophet, her dark hair and
pale skin like a beacon
to all of us.
“I can tell you if you are fat or thin,”
she says, her eyes seeming
to contain wisdom.
“All I need to do is put a hand on your stomach.”
That she has such powers
is amazing and all of us
queue up to her,
desperate to have her lay
her hand upon us as if
she is performing some kind
of miraculous miracle.
As I approach her,
she looks not at my stomach,
but at the way
that I walk towards her.
It is not a look of wisdom
that I see in her eyes,
but one of revulsion.
I want to turn away,
but the crowd of children
pushes me forwards.
She lays a hand on my stomach,
gives me a smile
that lacks any kind of warmth.
“You’re fat,”
She says.
“So incredibly fat.”
I back away from her as if
struck, falling into other children
in my haste to get away.
That evening,
I look at myself in the mirror
at home and I wonder why I
never saw how disgusting I was.
Was that thought waiting
for someone to rip off
the blinders so that
I could see myself as I really was?
Now,
As I look back at that memory,
at the moment which shaped
much of how I view myself,
I can finally let it go
which is a miracle
all its own.
Sharing Scars – A Poem
We sat together comparing our scars.
Some of them had been caused
by others and some we had made ourselves.
Many of them were the same
except for several of mine.
He had no scars along his skin to match them.
“It’s because you’ve lived longer,”
he told me, a look of wisdom
so out of place in his young face.
He lay in a bed, surrounded by the dark.
I could hear the rustle of leaves
that surrounded us but I did not
see any trees. I did not feel the wind
that made them rustle but he seemed
to take comfort from the sound
that the invisible trees made around us.
“You have come so far,”
he said to me.
“Farther than I thought I would go.”
He paused then and looked around
at the trees which I could no longer see.
“I thought I would die here. I’m glad we didn’t.”
It’s then that I notice something about his face.
There are two scars that run underneath his nose.
I reach up and touch the same scars on my face.
I really look at him for the first time
and I can see my face looking back at me,
albeit a younger face than I carry now.
He nods, pleased that I have finally realized
the truth and I know that those leaves
are within me still, though I no longer
feel fear when I hear the whisper of the leaves,
not like I did then. I have grown
beyond the fear of that time.
He stands and I stand with him.
I wonder how long I have been
carrying him within me and the fear
that filled me during this time.
“You don’t need me anymore,”
he says to me. He offers me a smile
and I can see light within it,
as if he can finally be free.
When he leaves the room,
I look around at what had held my fear,
this space where I lost myself
but planted a seed so that I could grow
beyond what I thought possible.
When I leave the room,
it is with the knowledge that I will not return.
I am not afraid anymore.
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Jamieson Wolf has written a compelling story about navigating multiple sclerosis and cerebral palsy. His story will touch your heart, make you cry, then laugh, and inspire you. A touching memoir with a bit of magic…and tarot! ~ Theresa Reed, author of The Tarot Coloring Book
Jamieson Wolf 