You get my drift (a southern writer shovels snow in Montana)




Visiting my folks in Helena while Dad (aka Mr. Invincible) recovers from bypass surgery. It's been a while since I shoveled snow, but I discovered this morning it's a lot like writing a book.

At first, it's all fun and excitement. After a while the novelty wears off, and you discover it's actually a whole lot of dang hard work. Every once in a while you slip and fall on your keister, but you get up and get back to it. It'll go easier if you have the right kind of shovel.

You never know when opportunity's going to come knocking, so it's important to keep the front walk clear and hospitable. Mom and Dad aren't able to drive right now, but I shoveled the driveway nonetheless. No matter what's going on in the house, you've got to hang on to the possibility of going somewhere.



You have to discover your own methodology, but it pretty much comes down to scraping away one line at a time. You make a pass across the pavement, then go back and catch the fallout, and finally go around and tidy up the edges.

Ultimately, life and writing are about doing what needs to be done, and doing it with genuine joy. If nothing else, your life's work in all its variations should be a balm and boon to the people you love.

Several more inches expected by Friday.


Comments

Great analogy as always, Joni. I wish your dad a speedy recovery!
Nancy J. Parra said…
Great post and so true!

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