Inspiration Monday: Keep on Truckin'

"Keep on Truckin'." We throw that around a lot, and we know what we mean. When the going gets tough, keep on going. You can't get much simpler than that.

I've said this phrase a lot lately (and had it said to me), so it got me thinking about how such a phrase became part of our everyday vernacular.

When I'm out driving on the interstate, I do think about the big trucks and the people who drive them. Much of the time, I'm trying to avoid being stuck beside them because, courtesy of my overactive imagination, I can just see my car getting swept up by one of those huge tires, leaving me and my car on the side of the road like a crumpled tissue. If cars were dinosaurs, a big rig would be a T-Rex and my Nissan would be something little and cute, like a prehistoric turtle. I'm not betting with those odds.

I also think about the people driving those trucks and what it would be like to have their job. It's a hard one, no doubt. Lonely, monotonous, exhausting, and a little dangerous. I imagine that sometimes life would feel a little surreal, since people in the transport industry definitely have to play fast and loose with time and space. You can't make a hot meal, you're stuck eating what you can find on your route. You can't curl up in your bed with your spouse, you have to crash in the sleeper or, if there's time, grab a quick night's sleep in a strange motel bed.

I can see some romance in it though. I would miss Husband way too much to ever hit the road like that without him, but the idea of driving on and on, all alone with my thoughts, is kind of appealing. There is so much to see in the world, and I keep saying I'll get out there to see it one of these days, but I never have the time. If this was my job, that is all I would have: time to drive and look and think. Interstate just looks like interstate, but there is life happening just off the sides, always.

I guess it is the illusion of freedom that appeals to me, but I am smart enough to know that it is just that: an illusion. That is why we say, "Keep on truckin'," after all. No matter what happens, they have to get where they're going, intact, and do it on time.

I could see a story in that. Maybe you can, too. Imagine you're the one in the driver's seat. You're high off the ground, the biggest thing on the road. You're controlled; you have to be. Those tiny cars just keep zooming around you like a swarm of gnats, and it is your job not to squish them. You're tired, your eyes are dry. There's a cramp in your neck. The cab of the truck smells like onions. You want a hot shower in your very own bathroom more than just about anything, but there's no use worrying about that. You've got a job to do.

Your trailer is special. This isn't just another load of Florida oranges coming up for a high school fundraising sale. This load, you're told, means something. You don't know what it is, and the boss isn't telling you. The rig is locked tight with a special combination lock, and you don't have the code. Whatever this is, it has to reach its destination, and it has to be there on time. They're waiting.

This is not a smooth run. You've lost a re-tread and your gas gauge doesn't seem to be working right. You hit a familiar truck stop to refuel, only to find it closed and boarded up. Then there's something about the way that State Trooper is tailing you that you just don't like.

Blue lights. Big surprise.

What's in the truck? Why is it so important? Where are you going? Where have you been? What's with all the bad luck, and is there a reason for it? Why does the cab smell like onions? Fill in the blanks and see where it takes you. Just make sure you reach your destination on time.

Inspiration Monday: Connect the Dots

Oh, blog. I've missed you. I've been slacking, I know. It's life. It gets in the way: oil changes, doctors' visits, cat food shopping, Post-It note writing, lightbulb changing, hair cuts, and world changing. It can wear a person down.

Though I'm the first to admit that I get caught up in the everyday, lately I realize that it is the spaces between things that our life stories take shape. It's in the detours, the side streets, the unexpected dead ends that we find our surprises, think on our toes, and test our worth. If everything always went as planned, we'd never have anything to talk about. It would be a boring, soft-heeled world full of boring, soft-heeled people with no stories to tell and no lessons to learn.

Take a look at these two photos. They seem a world apart, but use your imagination. Think up a way that a person would visit them both in the same day. What does the road between look like? Which one are they coming from and which one are they going to? How will each place change the way the person thinks about the other? Will they return?

Connect the dots. You might be surprised how many pictures you can make with just a few, and it's really the only way to make sense of a world of endless shapes.

Inspiration Monday: Intersection

When I meet a person, real or fictional, the first question I ask myself is what road brought him or her to stand in front of me. Then I wonder which road will call to them when they walk on by.

In some contexts I hope to nudge a person this way or that toward greater good in their lives: safety, support, comfort, compassion, empowerment.

Other times, I just hold my breath while they pass so I don't accidentally veer them off course.

Every person we meet and every choice we make is an intersection. Whether we like it or not, we make a choice to carry on or take a sharp turn to the left. Over, and over, and over again, we speed under the lights. Red, green, rarely enough yellow, we cruise right on through.

Think about what it means, all these crossroads--infinite possibilities, all painted shades of gray: What might have been? What should have been? Is there really such thing as should anyway? Am I lost? Where's the bathroom?

It isn't just the road we choose that changes our path. It is often the intersection itself which alters our course. How many times in your life have you thought, "If I had only known then what I know now, I would have done things differently." What you really mean is, "Why wasn't there a bridge-out sign way back there at the red-light when I had the chance to turn off?"

It's natural to wish that all the easy roads could touch, but unfortunately, that's rarely true. There are wolves waiting at the end of some of them, and hot meals with good company at the end of others. Sometimes we can't get to one without going down the other.

Today, write about an intersection, either literal or figurative. This intersection is a Big Deal. This intersection makes all the difference. Maybe it's a fugitive who hits a red light that never changes. Canada is just down the road and he has almost made it except for this stupid light. He'd run it, except sitting across the way is a cop--a very, very patient cop who revs his engine at the first sign of him running the light. No right on red.

Maybe it's more abstract: a painter who has to make a choice of blue or green for an element of his masterpiece. If he chooses blue, it will herald greatness and he will live in wealth and comfort for the rest of his life. If he chooses green, the piece will become a heartbreaking work of stark reality--and fade away into the obscurity of many heartbreaking works of stark reality. Throw in a blue-green colorblindness monkey wrench.

Toe the white lines in the crosswalks, count the cracks in the sidewalks. Listen in the distance to see what destiny sounds like from different directions. Take as long as you need to at that intersection, but in the end, you have to choose.

Otherwise, you'll never get where you're going. Wherever that may be.

Inspiration Monday: Lucky Day

Luck is one of those words that people throw around a lot, but when you sit someone down and ask them if they believe in luck, you'll get differing answers. Some people believe that there is no such thing as luck. Some people believe you make your own luck. Some people thank their lucky stars.

Star Buddy by Stacey

Most everyone knows someone who has bent his or her life in some small or large way for the sake of a good patch of luck. When I was a kid, I had an actual foot of an actual bunny attached to my cute little backpack because they were supposed to be lucky. It was the foot of a dead animal. A kind of animal I quite like, and one I would have been traumatized over had I seen one hobbling around missing its foot. But, because it was famously lucky and dyed an unnatural color, I didn't seem to have too much of a problem with it. Ah, the creepy innocence of youth.

Nowadays, I don't give too much thought about luck except in passing conversation. My beliefs about the ebb and flow of the universe have grown in complexity and devotion, and most major events and near misses in my life tend to get attributed in a spiritual direction rather than toward a severed animal foot.

That said, if I get a dose of good news right after finding a heads-up penny from my birth year, I will look a little closer at that penny and keep it around in my purse for a while (just for ambiance, you see. I'm not superstitious!)

However you fall on the issue of luck, there is no denying that it plays a big part in literature. If an author relies on it too much, the plot can seem contrived. No matter what heroics the main character pulls off, the reader has already checked out. They don't believe your big 80,000 word lie anymore because they've seen the seams. The illusion is broken.

Used judiciously, however, luck can give a little extra thrust to your pacing. A near miss is an exciting thing, and lucky objects make great MacGuffins. Characters can espouse all the same perspectives on luck as us boring flesh and blood folks. For instance, you could have a heart surgeon who always wears his or her lucky insoles when performing surgery on Tuesdays. This would be a man or woman of science, whose precision determines life and death in a very direct and literal way, who relies on worn out sneaker guts to function properly. Maybe you could have a compulsive gambler who will only bet against people on "lucky streaks" because he's psychologically profiled them to the point that he can predict their every move--and baits them into believing in those lucky streaks.

Put your lucky bamboo plant out on your desk, grab your lucky pen and your lucky notebook and write a story where luck plays a part, whether in the positive or negative sense. A lack of luck can be just as compelling as someone who just can't lose. A change of luck can compel a character toward new heights...or lows.

Grab some inspiration and see where it takes you. After all, it may be your lucky day. 

Inspiration Monday

One of my many quirks is that I like to give everything a backstory.

There is a coffee cup left half full on a cafe table. Maybe the owner wasn't thirsty, or maybe the coffee was just too sweet. Right?

Nope! Of course what really happened was that a handsome young man was sitting at that table, sipping that coffee (with just the right amount of sugar for his liking) and playing Words with Friends on his iPhone. He was looking for a good way to use the letters "ERQRIAA" and still hit a Triple Word score when he yawned and stretched to clear his mind. When he opened his eyes, for the first time, he saw her across the cafe. He scooted his chair back so fast that he almost tipped it backward when the leg caught on a piece of broken tile. He righted himself and snatched up his iPhone, forgetting all about Words with Anyone, and ran out of the cafe as fast as his legs would carry him. He left only a lonely coffee cup to show he'd ever been there. 

Okay, it's more likely that it was too sweet or had gone cold, but I like my way better.

Driving through my neighborhood, there is one lone garbage can still at the street days after trash day has passed. The neighbors probably forgot, or maybe they are out of town.

Oooor maybe they were sitting in their living room, minding their own business on trash day. They're both home from work because they were supposed to go on vacation, but he came down with a cold and they couldn't go. Rather than give up the rest and relaxation, they decided to have a stay-cation instead. 

A knock comes at the door. They're not expecting anyone since everyone already thinks that they're out of town, but he goes to the door anyway, praying the whole way he doesn't have another embarrassing sneezing fit in front of whomever it is. 

Standing there in front of him is a man in a blue suit, wearing a grin only a game-show-host's dentist could love. "Congratulations, sir!" says the man, and holds out a check to my neighbor. 

"What's this?" he asks. 

"You've won, sir!" says the game-show-host.

"What exactly have I won?" asks my neighbor. His wife appears behind him, wiping her hands on a paint splattered rag. 

"This," says the game-show-host, and he releases a spray of chemicals into their faces. They crumple to the ground in a heap, and two more men in blue suits with slicked back hair and crocodile smiles pick them up, stow them comfortably in the nondescript sedan they've parked in the driveway, and drive off, leaving only the garbage can staring after them. 

You can see how this gets amusing, though probably not for long-suffering Mr. Husband who sits patiently and tries to listen to my rambling about how the overturned container of yogurt in the grocery store was really left there by someone who was examining the expiration date carefully after that last spoiled-yogurt-in-the-office-fridge embarrassment, only to realize with a start that she was late for an appointment. Not just any appointment, but the appointment...

I digress. Again.

So. You out there. Creative types--what do you think? What can you find around you that seems mundane that maybe isn't quite as it seems? Artists, art! Writers, write! Readers, read our crap and tell us what you think! Inspiration is all over the place if you just pay attention.