And I Love You, Too

The other day I was pushing buttons on my car radio tuner, trying to find something that wasn’t exasperating, boring or annoying and suddenly there was Tom T. Hall singing, “I love little baby ducks, old pickup trucks, slow-movin’ trains . . .”  Suddenly I was young again, driving my first car, delighted at the images the song created in my mind, of a time when I was even younger.  Who doesn’t love fuzzy puppies, rain, the summer smell of hay?  Mr. Hall’s genius lay in his piling one pleasant obviousness on top of another: pickup trucks, bourbon in a glass, losers - and winners - when they cry.  “And I love you, too,” sings Tom T.. Hall.

In danger of being obvious like Mr. Hall, I advise you writers to not be afraid to evoke an emotion by being obvious.  What simple thing makes you smile?  Makes you angry?  Makes you cry?  It doesn’t have to be a huge thing.  A very young writer sent me something he’s written, wanting my opinion.  He’s acquiring the tools of a real writer, but his problem is that he isn’t – yet – good enough to evoke an emotional response to his characters’ dilemma.  He is trying to compensate for this by writing a story in which the fate of the whole world depends on a teen.  He might build up to this by first writing a story in which the happiness of a puppy depends on the decision of a visitor to the Humane Society.

Actually, that’s not a bad idea for a short story.  Tell it from the puppy’s point of view. 

I have an interesting catalog from a company that sells recordings of old radio shows: “The Whistler,” “Lights Out,” “Sergeant Preston of the Yukon,” “Jack Benny,” “Fibber McGee and Molly.”  I actually remember some of these – have I mentioned that I’m kind of old? – others I have discovered.  I whimsically wrote that one of my running characters in the Betsy Devonshire series is a fan of old radio shows, and so now I get to collect and listen to them, a delightful fate.  When I give a talk I often quote Fred Allen, who was a columnist and who had a show featuring his cynical commentary on the passing scene: “I don’t know why anyone would write a book when for a few dollars he could buy one.”  Some day I will have that sentiment cross stitched on a sampler and hung over my desk.