This past Christmas, my good friend Shanna, a fabulous writer and photographer, gave me a small blue book called You Know You’re a Writer When… It’s a funny little collection of statements finishing that thought. Statements such as:
… You’ll never forgive your parents for your happy childhood.
… Something bad happens to a friend and you’re glad she’s not a writer, so you can use it.
… At work you practice turning off your computer screen quickly, for when someone glances over your shoulder at what you’re writing.
… Sometimes you can no longer see the keyboard through your tears.
… As you’re staring out the window, you’re working.
… You read the Bible looking for book titles.
… You’d write during the long rides up the ski lift if you could figure out a way to take off your goggles, put on your reading glasses, remove your gloves, and find a pen without dropping the poles or falling off the lift. On the other hand, falling off the lift would make a great story.
I love that last one. It so perfectly describes the writer’s approach to a less-than-ideal situation: think of the story that’ll come out of it!
(Actually, I remember saying exactly this to Shanna after hearing that she’d been stricken by altitude sickness on her way to Everest Base Camp and had to be carried down the mountain on the back of a horse. And I believe she said the same to me after I told her about the Borneon bug that got stuck in my ear canal.)
Anyway, I found myself in another story-inspiring situation just yesterday.
First let me say that the organizers of the charity event I was reading at were great. They made a lot of kids happy. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that the storytelling tent stood right next to the tent housing the band. And so, I found myself on Mother’s Day morning surrounded by curious children and their parents, shouting out Chapter 1 of the Lost Souls in desperate attempts to be heard above a cover of “Message in a Bottle.”
In the end, I had to cede defeat and let the next author in line try her luck. But despite the circumstances – lost voice, confused listeners, indomitable singer imagining himself as Sting – all I could think about was what a fabulous story this would make. Author drowned out by enthusiastic Police cover. Yes!
No one got to hear The Ship of Lost Souls yesterday. But I left with a smile and a story.
