The fact that I spend most of my time thinking about the craft of fiction is not an asset when it comes to trying to replace my decrepit twenty-year old Volvo:

•  The comfort of the seats in this Tacoma and my relationship to them is paramount to emission specifications and low-end torque.
•  This car is a place. I am in a small room on wheels, the setting of a past and a future. Whether parked or in motion, this cabin is a house of dialogue and of conflict.
•  I open the glove box. It is ill-lit like a portal to some nether-world. I retrieve the owner’s manual. The terms of the manufacturer’s warranty are blunt and technical – cold bullet points in fonts too small. I crave complete sentences, concrete and simple, the lift and revelation of story.
•  I wish to edit the dash design of the LaCrosse. It is over-produced. It needs to be much simpler in order to relate to its reader. It strives to be an independent object and as a result proves poetically unavailable.
•  I study the salesman and later the sales manager. These characters, the rush of their walk, the fold of their hands – their outward motivations and hidden wants are at once both aligned and at odds as they toil day after day under the surgical lights of the cavernous showroom.
• I come to see the loan officer at the credit union as the antagonist, the keeper of the barrier to the protagonist’s (my) forward progression to obtain his desire. And all these numbers are like bees spinning up, swarming about my head.
• What does Taurus mean? I pause in the middle of the lot and pull out my phone to look it up.

Indeed, the fact that I spend most of my time thinking about the craft of fiction is not an asset. If the Volvo breaks down on the way to work at least I’ll have a story.

Being the father of twin girls and writing two wedding speeches in one year is no small task. Should you find yourself in this, or a similar situation, I offer here what little advice I possess.

 Don’t look at the first wedding speech. Period. Write as if you’ve never written such a speech before. You can repeat only about 5%. You can get away with repeating maybe the first couple of sentences – but no more.
 This is the most personal speaking you’ll ever do. Treat it as such. Be specific with the content. Do not use grand, over-reaching, language. Make sure the speech sounds like you. (Minus the cuss words and seventh-grade humor.)
 Don’t poke fun at anyone during the speech. What is funny to you while your preparing your remarks at the coffee shop has a high probability of not being funny at the reception with a microphone in front of your face.
 That said, light humor is good. Sentimentality is not. Heartfelt, immediate emotion is good, heartwarming even, but don’t start crying during the speech. Crying while speaking publically is awkward for everyone. Everyone. Avoid it if at all possible.
 Do not let the speech, at any point, suggest you raised your daughter by yourself – not unless of course you did. To leave your wife (or your daughter’s mother) off the page is a monumental mistake.
 Make sure the speech has a good ending. It is important that you not simply sputter out and quit. Put a good, tight button on the final two sentences. Make sure they stick like a javelin in damp turf.
 Unless your speech is very, very short or very, very simple, take notes up with you. This is no time to be a hero with memorized remarks. This is a high-stakes situation. Screwing the speech up because you decided it would be cool to appear spontaneous will cause much unnecessary regret. You’ve got enough regret. Don’t use this opportunity to manufacture more.

That’s what I have. Buck up there, fella. You’ll get through it.

Finding outlets for your writing requires taking scads of chances, consuming the output of others in your medium/genre, networking, and making sure you practice your craft every day.

Here is how one recent opportunity unfolded for me.

I wrote a Father’s Day essay for a contest in the Hendricks Country ICON. I won. My essay was printed in ICON. On August 30^th, after noodling on it for two and a half months, I sent an email to the senior account exec with ICON. I reminded her who I was and asked her if ICON would be interested in a monthly book review.

She wrote me back the next day and said she thought this was a great idea. In fact, ICON had just hired an editor for Hendricks County and was increasing to twice monthly (vs. monthly) and needed more copy. She said she’d pitch the idea to the Owner/Publisher the next day – 01 Sept.

She did. They all liked the idea. They asked me to send a sample review on September 2^nd. On the 4^th I sent the sample.

I don’t know how to create-on-demand this kind of opportunity, but I think it results from taking scads of chances, consuming the output of others in your medium/genre, networking, and making sure you practice your craft every day.

Miss one of these and you’ll suffer for it.

On April 2nd, I gave a speech at my eldest daughter’s wedding. In writing the speech I determined that there are four tasks a speech like this must perform. I thought I’d share those here in case you find yourself in the same situation – or a similar one.

Humor. The speech must bring a measure of laughter. One should avoid standup comedy, embarrassing either the bride or groom, or self-deprecation. The material here should in fact not be hilarious, but rather come naturally of the delight of the events surrounding the wedding.

Affection. The speech must be a bit sweet. This should not be avoided. There is an opportunity here to show the heart-felt emotion you have for the bride and/or groom. Love is in the air. Don’t ignore it.

Inclusiveness. The speech must pull in everyone in the room. Even a simple reference to the guests, a “we’re all in this together” sort of comment is perfect. At a wedding, the married couples in the room already feel a certain affinity for the new couple and are reflecting on their own nuptials. Why not bring this out in the speech?

Blessing. The speech must include a word of forward-looking hope for the new couple, a wish for the years to come. The speech is a rare opportunity, if for no other reason than to deliver a word of blessing. How often do you get to do that?

A final thought – these are not stand-alone elements, especially the first three. They are perhaps best when woven together. Let the power of the moment carry you. Mazel tov!