Home Is...
A Feeling, Not a Place
“If you want to be a writer, you must do two things above all others: read a lot and write a lot. There’s no way around these two things that I’m aware of, no shortcut… If you don’t have the time to read, you don’t have the time or the tools to write.”
-Steven King
There are legions of helpful and memorable quotes in Steven King's book “On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft”. King reminds us that continuously reading what others have written is key to developing ourselves as writers.
An article written by Josh Philpot details some of the sage advice offered up in this succinct handbook written by the prolific American author of horror, supernatural fiction, suspense, crime, science fiction, and fantasy novels.
https://joshphilpot.com/2014/01/21/a-few-awesome-quotes-from-on-writing-by-stephen-king/
Books and seminars about the craft of writing are frequently playing in the background as I do my part of the Spring cleaning and yard work. I am potting up red bell pepper plants grown from the seeds of a huge grocery store pepper when I hear the familiar prompt that is part of any writer's handbook-grab a sheet of paper and something to write with.
I wipe the wet soil from my hands, push pause, and grab paper and pen from the she-shed. Time for a writing break. The author gives the prompt-"home is"- and a 15 minute time limit to let the words flow. Here is what I came up with.
Fifteen minute exercise: Home is…
“Home, for me, is more of a feeling than a spot on a map. Living a nomadic life with cyclical rotations of being stationary or being on the road, moving toward destination after destination most of the time makes one long for a pin-dot map-spot that one can point a finger at and say “we live right there”.
I was a vandweller for two and a half years before Dan and I joined forces. My 8-passenger cargo van, the Desert Rose, was my only home in this world at that time.
I didn’t consider van life a hardship, but it caused a lot of people to worry about me and wonder if I could manage the rambling life. More than one person laughingly called me a vagrant.
Was I the dictionary definition of a vagrant during my early vandwelling days? A vagrant is a person without a home, who moves from place to place by begging, was one definition I found while doing some research. No, I was not a vagrant. I never had to beg for anything, even while traveling alone. I had a home, albeit what would be considered an unconventional home to some, but a home nonetheless.
Being a resourceful person allowed me to live on a very small Social Security disability income (less than $1000 a month) and still move about the country in a purposeful way.
Did my meager income shuttle me cross country constantly? No, but it allowed me to buy food for myself and my little road-dog and other household and personal supplies, and to pay for fuel and “home" maintenance instead of rent and utilities. I had enough jingle to fill our bellies and the gas tank, and to enjoy some touristy stuff like museums and local food as a treat now and then.
My income allowed me to make one big leap, once a month. I would set my sights on a spot on the map a few hours or a couple of days travel time from where I was currently camped. My health issues didn’t allow me to drive for more than 2 or 3 hours at a time. Sometimes I had to rest a day or two to make another couple hour bite out of the distance between where I had been and where I was going.
When I landed, I jiggled around in the general area, traveling 10 to 30 miles in a few of the most interesting directions when the scenery became dull. In this way, I saw a lot while actually driving very little.”
This exercise taught me that in free-flow mode, I can easily write 1500 words an hour. It helped that the subject was near and dear to my heart. My very first thought was “home is where Dan and the dogs are” but that, to me, is a given.
While it is very nice to be hanging with my honey at our desert oasis, our “plan b” home, I am also “at home” on the roam, because I know in my heart of hearts that home is a feeling and not a location.
Blessings from our home to yours,
Brenda Cordray
“The Desert Rose”
Thank you, again, Brenda, for helping me understand more about life and especially myself. You expressed several points that really hit home. And, home IS where the heart is. As a writer of millions and millions of words over many years, I have come to understand that I write, not to change people and the world, but to inspire, encourage and support others seeking their own direction in the short span of life we are all gifted with. Writing is an art just as painting, sculpting, composing and performing music, etc. are. And, art, while it may become a source of revenue in some form, is primarily, at its roots, an expression of the heart, mind and spirit of an individual. Thank you for sharing your heart, mind and spirit with me/us, your readers/fans.
Love it. ❤️ Yes, that is exactly how it is. But I am so glad that I now have a homebase from which to roam.