Writing to raise the dead (in 10 easy steps!)
Kidding. None of this is easy. But I want to do it anyway.
I want to raise the dead.
I know. I know. It was just Easter no less. And yes, it sounds melodramatic at best, blasphemous at worst but that’s what I want to do. That’s what I have to do.
That desire really isn’t that uncommon, is it? I mean, aside from the Resurrection, popular culture is filled with examples of (small r) resurrections. Think of zombies or the Oscar-winning Poor Things. Goodreads even has a section for the genre, dying and coming back to life.
Now that I think about it, the seed was planted in me years ago. As a child, during prayer time at school, or at the synagogue with my family, I was instructed to read The Amidah (Observant Jews repeat the prayer three times a day.) In it, there is a line that goes:
Who is like You, Master of mighty deeds, and who can be compared to You? King, Who causes death and restores life, and causes deliverance to sprout forth. And You are faithful to restore the dead to life. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead.
If I close my eyes, I can transport myself back in time, standing under the watchful eyes of my grandfather who made sure I moved my lips for each word and didn’t just say it in my head. Meanwhile, the men sang it out loud, their voices hitting a piercing pitch when begging God for this one thing: Me-chayeh Ha-ME-TIM. Resurrect the dead.
I only realized this underlying desire a couple of years ago, when I started this book project in earnest. I had no idea how to write this blended memoir/exploration of my grandmother’s life, so I turned to the experts.
I first discovered
, who runs the fabulous Substack, Notes from a Small Press. She sent out a questionnaire before her “How to Write a Nonfiction Book Proposal” course. It made me realize I needed that much more help, so I turned to and have been working with him ever since. The first question Paul asked me was: why do you want to write this book?It was a really hard question to answer. There was no why. Only I must. Still, I replied with a rambling response, something about being “called” to the story and feeling “responsible” for it.
I mean, really, how do you tell someone you just met that you want to resurrect the dead? I don’t need to resurrect her for good, just for a moment. I am not doing this only for myself, either. I want others to meet her, to see what I see (or saw).
Paul knows me now, so I can say these things to him. I can even say it out loud. I will bring her back to life. Not just her, but others. I hear their voices more loudly every day. It used to be just one voice, my grandmother’s, but somehow she has let others in. At first I could barely make them out. Now, I can almost see them. First three. Then five. They are banging down the door. I can only open it a crack or else, the floodgates will bust open.
So, it’s time to raise the dead. I even know how I’ll do it. I had the foresight years ago to keep things just for this occasion. I’ll fashion her body out of her precious artifacts. Her embroidered prayer book for her head. Her snakeskin purse for her chest. Her saucers and teacups to create her arms and hands. I’ll mix some Nescafe into warm milk on the stove and pour it the teacups piping hot. I’ll cover the various paraphernalia with the thin, wraparound dress she wore around the house, that I keep neatly folded in her purse.
On top of her head, I’ll place her 5 branch candelabra and then light it. Closing my eyes, I’ll pray, using my lips to enunciate every word. Blessed are You, Adonoy, Resurrector of the dead.
And then I will sit at my desk and write her back into existence.
Leah, yes their voices come and their
Words are full. And they want to be written. They want to be heard.
And, yes, one doesn’t just choose to write this kind of book. This book chooses you. You live more fully with their voices, as their voices move through you.
And once they have said their words,
They’ll say them in other ways and at other times until their story and your story is written.
You’ve been chosen to write scripture. Oral tales that become written from your memory and theirs. Sometimes it’s all we can do and everything we must do. You’re hearing the voices, and that will continue until the book is written. But of course it will continue after that. Just like your voice will also be passed on to someone that calls your name and needs to hear from you.
Beautiful!