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.
My sister and her teenage son were visiting from Colorado. We were walking back from the coffee shop near my house when I looked down and there it was—a hundred-dollar bill, waiting patiently on the pavement for me to leisurely bend over and pick it up. The two of them hadn’t seen it and they were astonished and envious that I had.
The extra cash was just what I needed. It allowed me to take us all out to dinner and buy some birthday gifts for my nephew.
This week the word perseverance has been scratching at me, wanting to be written about. It’s pestered me with all the doggedness you would expect from it. So here I am, struggling to come up with an opening story to illustrate what it means to persevere and why it interests me.
I don’t have a story. But that in itself is perfect. Because the essence of perseverance isn’t in the moment of triumph, realization, or reward. It’s not about the outcome. It is, by definition, the steady persistence in a course of action—and here’s the best part—in spite of difficulties, obstacles, or discouragement.
I was driving in the car with my 16-year-old son when I realized I had nothing to write about this week.
“I have no ideas for my blog,” I told him. “I’m drawing a complete blank.”
“Why don’t you write about the movie you went to?” he said, referring to Bohemian Rhapsody. “You liked that.”
If you’ve ever been laid low by illness or injury, you know how frustrating it is to lie there thinking of all the things you should be doing. You plan how you’ll “catch up.” You make a lot of promises to yourself. Once I feel better, I’ll exercise. I’ll cook more. I’ll go to the beach and sit in the sand. And I’ll balance that with being super productive. I’ll write every day. I’ll do the dishes!
My ex-husband and his new wife were a picture-perfect couple. So much so that they were photographed for the cover of Crain’s Chicago Business magazine. They were featured in an article about how stepparents are supposedly either relegated to support status or are simply invisible.
But his new wife wasn’t invisible. She posed with him and our three children on the front steps of my house — sorry, now their house— as if she had lived there for more than two months.
👉 Enjoy dedicated writing space just steps from Lake Michigan
👉 Benefit from one-on-one developmental editing sessions