This month’s blog
theme—Trains, Planes & Automobiles—provides me an opportunity to share a fond
childhood memory.
I grew up in Keokuk,
in the southeast corner of Iowa. My aunt & uncle lived 400 miles away in
Spirit Lake in Iowa’s northwest corner. Given that Iowa had no diagonal roads in
the late 1950s—it still has dang few—it took a LONG time to tack across Iowa by
car. With Mom at the wheel, it took even longer, since we drove at posted back
road speeds, stopped to visit sites like the Little Brown Church in the Vale, paused
to chow down on meatloaf sandwiches, and visited, oh, a dozen filling station
restrooms since Mom, my sister and I seemed to keep different bathroom
schedule.
All of this is to
explain why Mom decided to put her ten-year-old daughter (me) on a train to
Spirit Lake when I begged to travel a week ahead of the rest of the family so I
could attend Camp Foster, a really cool YMCA camp with canoeing, archery, and
all kinds of fun stuff.
The travel plan
sounded straight forward. Mom would drive me the first 100 miles to put me
aboard a passenger train for the remaining 300 miles. Then my aunt and uncle
would collect me. I didn’t have to change trains, and the trip was slated to
take maybe six hours. The conductor assured Mom he’d take care of me.
Turns out I was the sole
passenger in the only passenger car. All other cars were filled with passengers
who mooed. So the passenger car got bumped at our first stop, and I got to ride
in the caboose. Fortunately, I knew how to play poker, the conductor’s game of
choice.
About three hours in
as we approached the engineer’s home town, we encountered some sort of
mechanical problem. The engineer took me to his home, where I played with his
red-haired daughter Zelda—I can still picture her. The engineer collected me
hours later when whatever problem existed was fixed. And I went back to playing
poker in the caboose.
Of course, I was
oblivious to the fact that my mom, aunt and uncle were frantic that I was hours
late. My aunt finally reached someone who told her that one little girl and
several hundred head of cattle were headed her way—just a little late. I had a
blast. The trip was almost as much fun as Camp Foster.
Maybe these kinds of
experiences are why I remain a “seat of the pants” author, who never outlines a
novel before she starts writing. I like the freedom to veer off in different
directions as new plot opportunities arise. It keeps the writing fun.
So do you go with the
flow when the unexpected happens? Does your willingness to improvise/adjust
have an impact on how you write?
3 comments:
And you knew how to play poke at the age of ten, why? (grin) I didn't learn until I was twelve, I think. Sounds as if you had a grand adventure!
What fun! When we are youngsters we never really realize how worried the adults in our life can get when we're having fun and time slips away. These days you'd have a cell phone and could text if not call everyone and let them know what happened. Interesting how their was a problem near the engineer's home - hmmm.
When it comes to writing I always have a beginning and an end and at most a couple of highlights that show up somewhere. The rest comes together as I write and sometimes the ending changes as a result.
Still working on the 'go with the flow' attitude in real life. *smile*
Most times I go with the flow. Sometimes I get thrown for a loop.
In my writing, I do some planning. I try to figure out the beginning, turning points and ending before I start the first draft. Sometimes these things change,but it gives me something to write toward.
Lots of times new ideas or characters surprise me. That's part of the fun!
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