struggle for what you believe in

Struggle as hard as you can for whatever you believe in. ~ from fortune cookie

 

Today’s fortune is poignant because it wasn’t mine.

MTM texted this photo to me on the first day of my Natchez Trace walk. HIS fortune. HIS cookie.

He considered it a sign. A blessing, even. An exclamation point in my journey to claw my way toward what I believe. My husband would say his belief in me is unwavering, but few people know how he struggles as hard as he can for who he believes in. How mightily he fights for me.

MTM never works less than sixty hours a week. Every weekend, he’s answering messages and fielding phone calls. Most weeknights, he’s in meetings until late. He shoulders our household and makes it possible for me to write without any guarantee of my own paycheck.

Whenever I want to quit, he tells me why I should believe. Every time I see the dark side, he shines a light. Tough love? He’s sensitive as he gives me unvarnished critique. He puts up with my road trips. He listens to me describe inane character details. He holds me when I cry from both frustration and the pain of rejection.

If MTM didn’t believe in me, I would’ve quit long ago. Without him, I wouldn’t be where I am today. I believe in my dreams because he does. Because I can’t help it. Because I know my struggle will make them live.

Do you believe in fortune cookies, Dear Reader? Are you like me, hoarding an envelope of  fortunes you hope will someday come true?

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This is part of a series of pictures about making memories. You are welcome to share it on your social media accounts as long as you leave the website credit on it. Thanks!

Photograph Credit: Andra Watkins

postcard, multnomah falls

On September 13, I head to Portland, Oregon. Lewis and Clark country. Six events. Three days. Plus a day to mimic their footsteps. Explore a new-to-me site or two.

Travel looks glamorous.

It isn’t.

Yes, I love meeting current fans and making new ones. Yes, I adore adding destinations and making memories. Yes, I’m grateful anyone shows up for anything I do.

But I miss MTM.

A bone-crunching, heart-stopping ache.

Yes, I plow through everything and make it look fetching, but I do it while craving my soul.

I’m lucky he supports my crazy dream. Even when I wonder how anyone makes money writing books. Especially when I get another snarky review and cry for an hour or several. He keeps saying I believe when I walk through the valley of author atheism, a place bereft of belief in myself.

So many of you bolster me in ways you don’t know. You cheer and critique; you check on me and say exactly what I needed more often than you realize. In my loneliest moments on the road, when I struggle to keep up with myself and my stuff while being ‘on’ 24/7, you reach out and send me thoughtful messages, funny pictures and tender texts.

It’s my turn to give back to you.

If you’d like to receive a Lewis and Clark postcard from my trip to Portland, please leave a comment today. I’ll reach out to you by e-mail if I don’t have your mailing address. I’d love to spend part of a day at a picnic table, staring at the river Lewis loved to hate, breathing a few expedition molecules and penning notes to you.

 

How do I introduce a man most of you already know? On my seminal day, the anniversary of my appearance in this world, I don’t know how to write about my greatest gift.

MTM.

He helps me SEE the beauty in minutiae.

MTM

When I want to quit, he tells me I can.

MTM

When I stop believing, he constructs a bridge, guides me across and pushes me onward.

MTM

When I don’t care, he counteracts my apathy with passion and with faith. With a kick in the pants and with love.

MTM

He feeds my body. He nurtures my imagination. He consumes my soul….and he whups my butt in any game.

MTM

Without MTM, I would be Nowhere.

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h on the blog for website 2

The Huffington Post calls it “one literary ride you don’t want to miss!” What are you waiting for? Read Not Without My Father: One Woman’s 444-Mile Walk of the Natchez Trace. Be inspired to Make a Memory of your very own.

Click to read a sample of Not Without My Father

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