When I didn't take a break, my bike broke. My bike is a Honda Metropolitan, a scooter with a 49 cc engine and max speed of 45 mph. Basically, it's a bicycle with just enough attitude to outrun a lawnmower. And, like a lawnmower, if this engine isn't run regularly, some wacky chemistry occurs in the tiny gas tank, creating crystals that clog the carburetor and then the thing won't go.
My bike didn't start because I didn't ride it. And I didn't ride it because I suffer from the bad habit of not taking enough time for fun.
Even after this costly lesson (in time, money, and aggravation), here's what I did: On one of my days off from my day job, a good day to have fun, when the sky was bright and the sun was friendly, I sat on my kitchen porch eating a bowl of cereal, listening to my Honda's 49 cc engine turn over. Following the instructions of the Honda dealer, I had started to turn the engine over on days I couldn't ride it, to keep the atherosclerotic crystals from forming. And, why couldn't I ride it? On this particular day, riding interfered with my plan to get to the Department of Motor Vehicles well before noon to renew my car registration ahead of the lunch rush. I don't like to ride past noon on weekdays because of increased traffic density.
I swigged soggy Shredded Wheat on a beautiful summer day and watched the back wheel of my little red Honda spin in place inside my garage. Then I spewed my breakfast cereal when the absurdity of this image finally landed in the runway of my mind.
Girl, you need to get on that bike and ride! And, I did. For two giggly, windswept hours.
The lines at the DMV were absurd. But I sure felt a lot better standing in them than I would have if I hadn't ridden my bike.
As it turns out, a scooter that needs to move is the perfect toy for a woman who needs a consistent reminder to take a break.
Publishing milestones: The Lesson of the Chopsticks has undergone the first round of illustrations, and is on the way to 11 readers across the country for feedback to help shape round two. The Lesson of the Paper Clips gets a big thumbs up from the Palm Beach Post.
In the last installment, Gina leapt from full-time to part-time at her day job to widen the opening for her writing and publishing. In this episode, Gina recognizes that this extra time is less about producing more each day and more about changing her relationship to her craft.
I recently met a writer who told me she'd start on her second book when she could find a "big chunk of time." I wondered, how do you get that? But the more I thought about how my writing happens, the more I realized I'd already found my chunk of time.
One of the greatest leaps I took in my early career in newspaper writing was when I was filing a weekly column during my solo trip around the world.
When the cruise ship I was scheduled to sail on for four months went bankrupt in the middle of the South Pacific Ocean, all passengers were forced to disembark in Tahiti.
I know what you're thinking: "Stranded in Tahiti. What a hardship!" But here's the thumbnail: Chaos ensued. Passengers formed lines as long as the ship to retrieve passports from the purser. Refund questions hovered overhead like cartoon balloons. Also, I had resigned a substantial job to pursue my world travel dream, which now appeared dead, as did my column, a gig I'd pitched to The Hartford Courant to launch my professional writing career. If there was no more travel, there was no more column.
This was hardly paradise.
I recovered. I obtained a full refund from the travel agency through which I'd booked the cruise. And I used it to fund a new itinerary pieced together while I planted myself in New Zealand for two weeks to regroup and establish my footing for the next leg of my adventure.
Then my laptop died.
I wrote my remaining columns - 14 of them - by hand, then keyed them into computers at Internet cafes all over the world, which I researched the moment I arrived at each destination. It was a colossal drag but I learned something significant about writing during those five months: It doesn't just happen. The writer makes it happen, often under circumstances that don't resemble anything close to ideal. That experience taught me how to be comfortable with writing when it occurs in fits and starts, on the supermarket checkout line, at the gas station, or the airport. Or, when I'm exhausted or would rather be at the movies.
For example, I developed the first third of this newsletter half an hour before I left for the DMV. I wrote subsequent drafts in three 90-minute bites over a week. Then, I brought a hard copy of the first complete draft with me to the hair salon (where I spend more time than I'd like but it does provide me with a captive hour under the dryer and two 20-minute waits between shampoos and styling). I continued to carve away at the newsletter at a local restaurant while eating lunch, then in half-hour blocks for three nights before going to bed. I finished polishing it in electronic format (another 90 minutes) before e-mailing it to my friend and editor for her round of reviews.
Strung together over days, weeks, months, and years, an hour here, 15 or 40 minutes there, add up to a huge chunk of time - the same chunk I would have lived had I not written at all.
Over the years, I've become adept at hitting deadlines and making writing happen around the clock and under any circumstance - a skill that will always serve me well. But with two more days off during the week, I don't have to pack each day from dawn until dusk. This gives me the psychic freedom to explore my process and deepen my writing rather than merely get it done.
Gina's publishing adventures continue in the next episode of The Leap.
Chris from Harwinton, CT writes about her "dance card": "Every day I have a different dance to go to - sometimes a happy little dance, and sometimes a funeral dirge and most of the time, something in between."
Patrick from New York City, NY recommends the pithy self-help book, Don't Sweat the Small Stuff, by Richard Carlson, PhD. And Michael from Minneapolis, MN recommends Light Before Dark, a novel by Christopher Rice. Michael's review: "Hold on for the ride!"
Below are my three-word reviews for strong reads since my last newsletter. What are you reading?
Non-fiction
The Kiss - Kathryn Harrison
Mesmerizing family triangle
The Good Times Are Killing Me - Lynda Barry
Chew slowly
One! Hundred! Demons! - Lynda Barry
Blew my mind!
Lucky - Alice Sebold
Rewarding memoir
Tell me about your Symbol Life. How have your own metaphors for living shaped you? What leaps have you taken? I'd
love to hear about them.
Thanks for taking time to read my newsletter. I'll be writing to you again in October.
E-mail this newsletter to a friend.
