One Little Elephant

I woke at 8:15. Not good for a Monday. I'd stayed up playing free cell and listening to talking heads until 2 a.m. Bad choice for a mom who needs to orchestrate the morning exodus of three teens. But there are lessons to be learned every day if you're paying attention. Here's what I learned between 8:15 and 9:15 today:

8:20 a.m. Clothing hung in the laundry room overnight is only half dry by morning. A successful and timely drying process requires fresh, moving air.

Writing Lesson: Successful novel writing requires fresh perspectives and new experiences. Too much time spent sitting in a small room staring at a screen awaiting inspiration can be counterproductive.

8:25 a.m. Number One Son calmly announces he can no longer wait for Sister (whose alarm failed to go off). He must leave for school without her or be late. He drives off in his truck. Number Two Son, with whom she usually rides, had regretfully given up waiting ten minutes earlier and left in his truck. Despite the fact I must now rush to get dressed and take her myself, my heart surges with pride in my boys. They weren't angry or upset with their Sister. Each had generously waited for her as long as possible without jeopardizing his own schedule. But both realize that, ultimately, getting Sister to school isn't their responsibility. It's mine. They've grown into generous young men, but young men with reasonable boundaries.

Writing Lesson: In writing, as in all of life, I need reasonable boundaries. I need to be responsible for what I am responsible for, as generous as possible with others without compromising my own success, and free to move on in life without guilt or anger when things don't happen as expected.

8:30 a.m. DH's car, which is normally safely in the garage, is blocking mine. It's his one day off this week and he's snoozing-in. I could get his keys and move his car or even drive my daughter to school in it. He wouldn't care. But I would. I don't drive my husband's muscle car. Not out of fear (I come from a long line of car-folk; if it's got an engine I can drive it), but out of respect.

Instead I do an impressive (if I do say so myself) series of tiny forward/reverse maneuvers and free my car from imprisonment.

Writing Lesson: Don't be afraid to get your characters into really tight situations. Have confidence in your ability to get them out again.

8:40 a.m. My daughter comes flying down the stairs. Her clothes are perfect. Her unwashed hair is barrett-ed up in fabulous funky fashion. For someone who didn't even have time to shower, she looks like she's ready for an interview at Teen Vogue. Bad hair day dodged.

Writing Lesson: Prepare to be creative. Use your 'easy days' to stock your closet, hair pins drawer, writing ideas file, etc. with things that will allow you to soar over the hurdles the 'difficult days' throw in your path. Don't let anything stop you from being the best you can be.

8:47 a.m. I drop her off at the high school with minutes to spare. I pull out of the drop-off arc and drive a block on the main road in front of the school. I stop behind another car just short of the entrance to the school's student parking lot. We drivers on the main road have the right of way, but the tardy bell will ring in mere minutes and there is a line of about forty cars in the turn lane trying to get into the student parking lot. If they're going to beat the bell they need to get into that parking lot now. The mother in front of me is purposefully blocking the right of way traffic. Her actions are not unusual. If she hadn't done it, another parent would have. No one honks. We wait patiently. One after the other all forty cars whip into the parking lot.

Writing lesson: Being part of a community where people look after each other is a blessing. Remember sometimes even if you're entitled, another's need is greater. Be generous. Help others succeed.

8:55 a.m. An ambulance siren is blaring. I see its lights flashing in the distance. I pull off to the side along with all the other drivers and we wait while the ambulance and the fire engine following it rush by.

Writing Lesson: There are priorities in life. Keep yours straight. If you want your characters to be likeable or at least believable, keep theirs straight as well, or show good reason why they aren't.

9:00 a.m. I keep a basket near the front door. I toss errand items into it throughout the day: checks to deposit, letters to mail, shirts for the cleaners, library books, printer cartridges needing refill, prescriptions to fill, items my kids friends leave at my house that need to be returned to theirs, store returns, special shopping lists for the hardware store/plant nursery/beauty supply/office supply/bookstore, etc. I didn't plan to run errands this morning, but by force of habit I grabbed the basket on the way out. So I run a few errands.

Writing lesson: Build simple systems into your daily life that buy you the time and peace of mind to write.

9:15 a.m. I pull into the driveway at home with a lighter errand basket and take-out breakfasts. I'm glad I brought two. DH is up. His car is safely back in the garage and he has his lawn work clothes on. We eat together on the front porch.

Writing Lesson: Enjoy the simple pleasures in life - like breakfast on the porch with a middle-aged cutie wearing a torn t-shirt and an Indiana Jones hat. Learn to love the buzzy music of the hedge trimmer while you write.

Something that's helping me write today: An empty inbox and a well-organized file drawer. All courtesy of having my daughter spend an hour with me in my office this weekend playing file clerk and general office assistant. She's a gem.

I stalk men at the grocery store. At first this disturbed my husband, but now he encourages me.

My prey can be any of several species: college-age frat-boy, thirty-something tail-gater, middle-aged party-host. He looks different each time, but I recognize him on sight. He enters the store alone and stops short, looking momentarily dazed, like a deer in headlights. Then he spots the aisle signs and beelines for the beer and deli sections. He fills his cart with enough brew to drown a rugby team and heaps platters of finger foods on top.

I creep along behind him with my loaded cart. Watching. Waiting.

Finally he rolls into a checkout lane and I dart in behind him. Should a checker from an empty lane try to wave me over with a friendly "I can help you over here, ma'am," I frown at her and shake my head. I bide my time pretending to leaf through a recipe mag.

As his last case of beer is scanned, I lean in and smile my best harmless-housewife smile. "Do you collect the stamps?" I ask.

He looks confused.

"For the dishes?" I say.

The grocery checker is watching intently, her hand poised above the section of her cash drawer where the stamps reside.

"Dishes?" His head comes up as if sensing danger. He looks about the store. The grocery checker and I both stare at him with polite expectation. "Uh, no, I guess not," he says.

"Well, then," I say sweetly, "may I have yours?"

"Umm, sure, I guess so."

The grocery clerk hands him a stack of stamps worth a small fortune. He passes them, gallantly, to me. I thank him and he wheels off with his game-day beer and snacks.

The grocery clerk grins and lifts an eyebrow at me. "That's how it's done," she says, and starts ringing up my cart.

Just as hunters of old thanked the bison for the gift of its meat, I thank those generous beer-run guys. Their stamps, which might otherwise have landed in the trash with the empty beer cans, allow my family to dine on expensive famous-brand china. They've also helped me gift happy brides with hundreds of dollars worth of wedding registry cookware. All without it costing me a single dime.

So what does stalking beer-run guys at the grocery store have to do with writing? I've shared in previous posts about the financial cost of being a writer. Anything I can do to save money in my daily life softens the financial impact on my family of getting started as a writer.

What are some of your favorite money-savers?



Something that's helping me write today: A decision I made this weekend while gazing out at the vast expanse of ocean off Pelican Island. Moments in time can seem like drops of water in a vast ocean: endless, inexhaustible. Perhaps in eternity they are. But my lifetime here on earth is finite. I need to use my time in a wise and balanced way if I wish to achieve all my goals, writing and otherwise. To that end, instead of posting to this blog twice a week, I'll be rebalancing my writing time by posting only once a week on Sunday evening. We'll see how that goes.

I'm at the beach in Galveston, but in case you dropped by...

A Knight of Writing in white shorts, armed with confidence and a can of beer.

Something that's helping me write today: Letting the sea breeze blow the cobwebs from my mind.

Cost of being a Writer: Officially the total I invested for 2009 in this writing business was $2569. But I'm guessing it was really considerably more than that. Our accountant will only use the amount I can prove with receipts (which was $2569). I messed up by failing to keep receipts for some things and so wasn't allowed to deduct them, so my writing business costs for 2009 were really more than $2569.

Note: My accountant wanted proof I'm not just a writing hobbyist. I was able to produce emails from a publisher showing strong interest in my work. Though the publisher eventually passed, a close miss satisfied the accountant.

Too Much of a Good Thing: I still adore him, but he's still underfoot and will be for at least another week because he was misdiagnosed initially. He's got the proper meds now and is on the mend. No permanent damage. I'm soooo grateful for that. All in all, it's been a growing experieince for me. I'm attempting to learn to write with constant distractions. I won't say I've been tremendously successful, but I'm not failing completely either. So all's good for now.

Just a Dream: Remission!!!! Yay!!! I'm so happy for her. And she tells me she's taken two (TWO!) firm steps toward achieving her dream. How cool is that?

Something that's helping me write today: A great big Dr. Pepper. Yes, I know. But I can't help it. I'm a Dr. Pepper addict.

A couple of salutes. One to Easter and one to two phenomenal talents.


Something that's helping me write today: Fred Astaire and Judy Garland. They are proof that two very ordinary-looking people can be blessed extraordinary talent. And when talent like that is combined with a strong work ethic they bless the rest of us with it as well.

Lent ends today. Time to take inventory (and fess up). Here's how it went:

Eschewing TV

This was difficult at first, but grew progressively easier. By week three I'd forgotten about TV as better things filled the void. I regret the evenings wasted on that silly box in the past, but since I don't feel even a wisp of anticipation that I'll soon be free to watch it again, I'm hopeful Lent has triumphed over this vice.

Surrendering the Dr. Pepper

This was hard, hard, hard from the beginning. Did it get easier? NO!!!! But I stood wobbly-kneed against temptation. Lent ends today and I wish I could say it conquered this vice, but the fact that my insides are wriggling with puppyish joy at the thought of a Dr. Pepper tells me it's not so. Still, there was value in this Lenten abstinence because it made me acknowledge my human weakness and my need for God's strength.

Relinquishing daytime web surfing and email checking

This was at once a great failure and a tremendous success. Failure because I broke this Lenten promise on repeated occasions.

Sometimes I broke it for valid reasons like finding the one pharmacy in town that could fill hubby's prescription when he was very ill or turning in an application for a large scholarship my son only learned he was eligible for on the last day he could apply(he got it!).

Sometimes I broke it when habit intersected with carelessness. If I didn't throw the internet cord over the curtain rod there was a good chance that when I took a break from writing I'd access the internet simply from habit. I'd be surfing before I realized it. This taught me that changing bad habits requires more than good intentions. It also requires altering my environment.

And finally, sometimes I failed to keep this Lenten promise out of simple sinfulness.

Yet despite those failures, I also had tremendous success. I realized the internet is not nearly as entertaining as reading a good book on my shady front porch. It's not nearly as satisfying as snuggling with my husband or laughing with my teens. It's not nearly as gratifying as getting a scene written or the laundry done. When day passed into evening and I could fetch that cord down off the curtain rod, I found myself tending to get on the web, get whatever I needed done, and get off again. Living life became more attractive than surfing through it. I call that success.

So that's the Lenten wrap up. But what does it have to do with writing? Disposing of the vices that keep me bound mentally, physically, socially, or spiritually sets me free to write better and to live better. I only addressed three of that original list of fifteen, but today life is better (in at least three ways) because I did.


Something that's helping me write today: This question which I taped on the wall beside my desk many years ago and still read several times a day. What have you done in the past hour to improve/enrich your life or the lives of others?