By Mark W. Danielson
It could have been a scene from a novel. An elderly couple dining on burgers, lost in thought. Neither exchanging glances. No words being spoken. When the man finished, he put his frosty to his mouth like an ice cream cone, his spoon in hand an unused accessory, slurping as he turned it while his wife forked her baked potato. Soon, the man gathered his trash, dumped it in the bin, and walked out to the car. But rather than follow, she remained behind, casually spooning her frosty, occasionally looking out the window, no doubt contemplating her marriage that died many years ago. Cruelly, Kerry Underwood’s song about how love, compared to everything else, seems small, played in the background.
Watching this scene play out from six feet away, I thought about past relationships. Lonely hearts of days gone by. There is noting worse than feeling alone while your mate is right there with you. And yet couples like this routinely stay together, for worse, not for better. In the case above, the old woman was still inside when I drove off; her husband still slurping his frosty in the car.
Encounters like this inspire heartfelt characters. Readers empathize because at one time or another, they have been there themselves. Well-written characters can launch readers into the past, or send them into the future. But to write about love, one must first experience it. To write about kids, one must first have them. Love and kids both create a range of emotion that would otherwise be impossible to describe.
As I watched this couple, my heart went out to them, and I thanked God I have a wife that loves and stands by me. Having seen both sides of the spectrum, I'll choose love over solidarity every time.
They say that writers are loners, and in part that’s true. A writer does not write well with constant interruptions or distractions. But soulless writers cannot write at all. They must still get out and live. This holiday season, don't sweat out your deadlines. Instead, get out, smile, share your love, and enjoy the company of your friends and family.
It could have been a scene from a novel. An elderly couple dining on burgers, lost in thought. Neither exchanging glances. No words being spoken. When the man finished, he put his frosty to his mouth like an ice cream cone, his spoon in hand an unused accessory, slurping as he turned it while his wife forked her baked potato. Soon, the man gathered his trash, dumped it in the bin, and walked out to the car. But rather than follow, she remained behind, casually spooning her frosty, occasionally looking out the window, no doubt contemplating her marriage that died many years ago. Cruelly, Kerry Underwood’s song about how love, compared to everything else, seems small, played in the background.
Watching this scene play out from six feet away, I thought about past relationships. Lonely hearts of days gone by. There is noting worse than feeling alone while your mate is right there with you. And yet couples like this routinely stay together, for worse, not for better. In the case above, the old woman was still inside when I drove off; her husband still slurping his frosty in the car.
Encounters like this inspire heartfelt characters. Readers empathize because at one time or another, they have been there themselves. Well-written characters can launch readers into the past, or send them into the future. But to write about love, one must first experience it. To write about kids, one must first have them. Love and kids both create a range of emotion that would otherwise be impossible to describe.
As I watched this couple, my heart went out to them, and I thanked God I have a wife that loves and stands by me. Having seen both sides of the spectrum, I'll choose love over solidarity every time.
They say that writers are loners, and in part that’s true. A writer does not write well with constant interruptions or distractions. But soulless writers cannot write at all. They must still get out and live. This holiday season, don't sweat out your deadlines. Instead, get out, smile, share your love, and enjoy the company of your friends and family.
9 comments:
Very excellent advice, Mark. It's true we writers always have novels we are dying to finish or fix, promotion to get done, but what good is all that if you can't share it with someone?
Morgan Mandel
http://morganmandel.blogspot.com
I agree. Good advice, Mark, and you're right. Good writing comes from sharing passion as well as the low points in your life.
Thanks, Morgan. Sometimes we have to remind ourselves of what's really important in life.
Jean, without passion, there could be no high or low points.
Very well said, Mark. Thank you.
Last night I discovered the real definition of lonely by spending the night in DFW's terminal when I couldn't get on the last flight to Denver. Fortunately I had editing to do so I worked dillegently until 4 AM, then sat like a Zombie until my 6:15 AM flight. I prefer writing without distractions, but this is a bit over the top:)
Once hubby and I spent the night in the Denver airport--yuk, longest night I've ever experienced. A whole bunch of us slept upstairs on the chairs and floor. Had to take a flight to a different city to get a flight close to home--either that or spend one more night. No way. At least I spent it with my hubby who does love me.
You're company was better than mine, Marilyn. Thankfully, it's easy finding an electrical outlet when the terminal is deserted. As I was in uniform, I didn't dare fall asleep. It just doesn't look very professional -- an airline captain lounging in the terminal would be like a doctor lounging in the hospital lobby. Hey -- there might be a story in that one:)
Good advice for the Holiday Season, Mark, but you know what? It's a good policy to follow all year long.
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