Gratitude by Wendy Delsol
Our topic this month is gratitude. There are many things I’m
grateful for. Profoundly grateful. Many bounties spring to mind: family,
health, a warm bed, a stocked pantry, and a rich community of friends. Many of
whom would take my three-a.m. phone call. The prompt, however, has me casting
for less obvious considerations. To that end, I’m grateful to have come to
writing somewhat later in life.
I’ve share before that I was—gasp—forty when a terrifying
and extended cycle of migraines prompted me to evaluate goals. Writing had long
been a secret fantasy, but I’d never found the time, or confidence, to act on
it. While I can’t deny that it would be nice to have a few more ISBNs
associated with my name, it’s worth noting that those forty non-writing years
were excellent research.
One area with which I can boast first-hand experience is
financial struggle. My father, an auto worker during the turbulent 1970s, was
laid off twice. New clothes were a luxury. Spam and scrambled eggs were
frequent main courses. And my father’s death when I was a junior in high school
plunged us further into crisis. Without government support (in the way of
social-security checks) and student loans, I would never have made it through
college. Thirty years later and I appreciate the trials.
Another field of life experience for which I’m grateful is
travel. I’ve always been a bit of a wanderer. And French was always my favorite
subject at school. At college, I did a semester in Paris and returned
post-graduation to Nice for an additional year of language immersion. It was,
therefore, only natural that I’d end up in the travel industry. I worked for
ten years as a tour coordinator in Los Angeles for an inbound tour operator.
The job took me all over Europe and the U.S. Living and studying abroad in
addition to business travel afforded me a wider perspective on so much that
comes up in my writing: family, culture, religion, history, and more.
I can also be called a carpet bagger. I was born in Canada
to English parents. I grew up in the Detroit area. I’ve lived in France (see
above). I spent twenty years in Los Angeles. And currently reside in Des
Moines. Plenty of locales in which to set a story.
Writing is a solitary endeavor. It requires hours of alone
time and perseverance. I’m immensely grateful to have the time to devote to the
craft. That said, I’m glad I didn’t plant my butt in the writing chair too
soon. A full stock of varied adventures—struggles included—are mine to draw
from.
I love hearing about other writers' journeys (esp. 40-something writers!) Thanks for sharing. PS. I also have spam lurking in my past but I'm not grateful about that.
ReplyDeleteLiving life is good research! I didn't start writing till my 30's, so can relate to the feeling of being "behind." A critique partner of mine didn't publish until her late 50's, and was so jealous of me for starting young. Ha! It's all a matter of perspective.
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad you didn't let being--gasp--40 stop you! Perfect time to really get started...
ReplyDelete