After dropping the kids at school this morning, I had to drive downtown to go to a dental appointment so I turned on some music and lost myself in my thoughts as I drove.
Last weekend, I went to Chicago with Deborah to do strategic planning for VillageQ but we also took some time to drink bourbon and discuss my book. She had read it, had detailed notes on the manuscript and wanted to talk about it. I wanted to talk about it and didn’t want to talk about it because writing a memoir feels indulgent at times so talking about that memoir feels even more so. But Deborah is persistent. Notice I didn’t say patient because her response to my deflections was consistently, “Shut up and listen to me.” And I did – I listened.
When it comes to writing, I understand the minutiae. I am the kind of person who will stand in a forest and describe the dappled light on the bark of a walnut tree rather than tell you there is a bulldozer 100 feet ahead in shadows ready to raze the forest. There is work to be done with my manuscript that will require me to step away from the beauty of the light and peek into the shadows.