What a lovely post. I remember you talking about your little dog, right before he died, and then after. We have now had to euthanize one old man and one old lady cat within three weeks of each other, in the last six weeks. Little Rufus, Little Punkin. I loved this post and all the details of your yard and the new life you've instilled, while remembering and honoring your little dog. I love the idea of the scaffolding, too. My scaffolding that came down this week is in regards to my writing space - my office. I finally figured out what to do with the furniture and I feel like I have a whole new office, just like you have a new outdoor space. Peace be with you.
Just an aside - I love your writing (subjects, humanity, word magic, etc.) SO much. Reading your memoir was like eating something delicious - going slow, trying to savor each flavor, never wanting to finish.
My email inbox runneth over with too much Substack and yours is one of maybe three subscriptions I never wonder "should I unsubscribe? Do I really care? Is this truly great?". And I miss Sid, so thank you!
This resonated for me. A few months into my memoir-in-progress it hit me that I didn't want to tell the story the way I had started so I went with my gut and changed the structure of the chapters and the book and it not only flowed better, it opened up all these windows and doors to other facets of the story. I still needed scaffolding but I knocked down the old once I had a foundation, and I rebuilt it better. I'm sorry about your pup.
Jami, once again, you have somehow divined exactly the advice I needed to hear: "I had outgrown the structure. It had acted as scaffolding when I needed it. It had made me feel safe, knowing that it was there to hold me steady." The fact that the book can give you a way to write it, to make it possible for you to do it, and then show you: hey, that scaffolding? You don't need it any more! Trust it, and then let go! "I don’t think we can ever see it until it’s ready to come down." Thank you for once again for the wisdom and guidance.
And what an absolutely beautiful way to memorialize Sid.
I think I'm struggling with my novel (haven't touched it in months) because of the scaffolding I've imposed on it. I'm sure I'll figure it out.
Thank you, Jami. This idea of removing the scaffolding might be exactly what I need to return to my ms with rigor and enthusiasm. I hope!
What a lovely post. I remember you talking about your little dog, right before he died, and then after. We have now had to euthanize one old man and one old lady cat within three weeks of each other, in the last six weeks. Little Rufus, Little Punkin. I loved this post and all the details of your yard and the new life you've instilled, while remembering and honoring your little dog. I love the idea of the scaffolding, too. My scaffolding that came down this week is in regards to my writing space - my office. I finally figured out what to do with the furniture and I feel like I have a whole new office, just like you have a new outdoor space. Peace be with you.
Also, I have your memoir, and look forward to reading it!
<3
I am a new subscriber and this post alone was worth the price! I look forward to getting to know you and to learning how to be a better writer.
Just an aside - I love your writing (subjects, humanity, word magic, etc.) SO much. Reading your memoir was like eating something delicious - going slow, trying to savor each flavor, never wanting to finish.
My email inbox runneth over with too much Substack and yours is one of maybe three subscriptions I never wonder "should I unsubscribe? Do I really care? Is this truly great?". And I miss Sid, so thank you!
This resonated for me. A few months into my memoir-in-progress it hit me that I didn't want to tell the story the way I had started so I went with my gut and changed the structure of the chapters and the book and it not only flowed better, it opened up all these windows and doors to other facets of the story. I still needed scaffolding but I knocked down the old once I had a foundation, and I rebuilt it better. I'm sorry about your pup.
Jami, once again, you have somehow divined exactly the advice I needed to hear: "I had outgrown the structure. It had acted as scaffolding when I needed it. It had made me feel safe, knowing that it was there to hold me steady." The fact that the book can give you a way to write it, to make it possible for you to do it, and then show you: hey, that scaffolding? You don't need it any more! Trust it, and then let go! "I don’t think we can ever see it until it’s ready to come down." Thank you for once again for the wisdom and guidance.
And what an absolutely beautiful way to memorialize Sid.