I’m from Holland, Michigan, and when I was a kid, my grandma taught me a children’s rhyme in Dutch. She didn’t speak Dutch fluently, but her parents had and this little ditty was one of the things she remembered.
She wasn’t completely sure of the meaning, just that it was something about a cart before a horse.
Years ago, when I was still shell-shocked from learning of my husband’s infidelity and angry that I had become a divorced woman, I went out to dinner with two friends. Both were divorced, so we had that in common. But one was talking easily about co-hosting her son’s graduation party with her Ex and his new wife—the woman he’d left her for.
She barely even rolled her eyes when she said his name!
How’s this for a conundrum? I spent eight years writing a book about divorce, then when I finally reached those two magic words I’d been certain would never materialize on the page—the end—I discovered that I was expected to talk about it. A lot.
In my mind, once I put the story on paper, I’d never again have to relate this difficult time in my life. If someone had a question about my past, I could point them toward the nearest bookstore and say “Read the book.” I could move on to writing happier, made-up stories.
So I opened my laptop this morning and found that the battery was nearly dead. The power cord wasn’t in its usual spot and as I started looking for it I realized, with a sinking feeling, that I must have left it at my mom’s house over the weekend—three hours away.
While I was trying to work out how to replace it before a client call, my phone died.
The dedication in my memoir reads: to my mother, and to all single mothers, who are doing the very best they can.
In my book I wrote, in part, about the challenges I faced going through an unexpected divorce and how many of those experiences helped me appreciate what my own mother went through as a single mom.
I heard the word “springboard” the other day and it made me flashback to the summer I was nine years old and went off the high dive for the first time at the community pool.
Except that I didn’t. What really happened was pure humiliation: I climbed the long ladder for what felt like ages, shuffled to the edge of the diving board, looked down, and froze. Uh-uh. There was no way I was jumping. With shaking knees, I backed up and started down the ladder, which was a slow process because I had to wait for all the kids behind me to back up too. And then I went home.
As I sit at my desk in Chicago, it seems surreal that less than twenty-four hours ago I was on a Florida beach with a rainbow stretched over my head. Actually, it was the second rainbow to grace me in three days, but when it comes to rainbows, you don’t count them, you simply stop what you’re doing and stare.
A rainbow moment is a right-brain moment, a burst of color and creativity from a higher realm.
Today I feel like writing about mistakes. Heck, I’m even open to making some. Not that I haven’t already made my fair share. From the workplace to the home front, as a parent, wife, or friend, my mistakes sometimes include big life moments and, other times, small sweaty details.
What’s the secret to writing a scene that works? You may not know how to name it, but you certainly know when you read something that’s just meh, so-so. What’s missing? And what would it take to fix it? You might think good writing requires a mysterious balance of action, dialogue, setting, symbolism, and so on, and those things are all important. But there’s one fundamental ingredient that trumps all the craft in the world.
On this cold and dreary winter day, I’m feeling warm fuzzies thinking about all the beautifully creative people in my life (yes, that includes you!). I love watching others express their unique visions and there’s nothing I enjoy more than seeing the seed of an idea take root and sprout into something tangible.
I also know that, sometimes, it’s hard to believe that our creative efforts will bear fruit. Projects can begin to look like the view out my back window: frozen, lifeless, dull.
👉 Enjoy dedicated writing space just steps from Lake Michigan
👉 Benefit from one-on-one developmental editing sessions