 | 3 Feb 10 |
I was making pretty good progress on my current book, meeting my weekly word count goals and figuring out where the plot is going. Then, in the last few weeks, my progress dried up, and I started feeling aimless and unmotivated. Today, I think I figured out the problem: my elder child is learning to drive. With the stress that entails, how can I possibly be expected to work?
Now when I say “learning” you should know that I am taking some liberties with language. Oh, I am sure that some learning took place early in T-wa’s tutelage, back when a very nice lady named Laura from Hometown Driving School arrived in our driveway in a cheery little yellow sedan with the logo emblazoned on this side, ready to show him the ropes.
(This is the point in a story where they always put a picture of the subjects six months earlier, with their arms around each other. The headline generally reads “in happier times.” )
Oh, the whole driving thing didn’t start out unhappy, exactly. That first couple of outings it was all “Yes ma’am” and “Thank you ma’am” and hands at ten and two. It was straight and narrow, check the rear-view, no-no-after-you at every intersection. Laura was my son’s favorite person in the world there for a while, and her arrival was awaited with the sort of breathless anticipation that generally attends a visit from Santa when you’re six. Her business card was given pride of place on the fridge. I’m fairly sure he memorized her cell phone number. Just in case, you know, he felt like talkin driving with someone in the biz sometime.
I was thrilled, convinced that T-wa was a model student. By the time he was returned to me he had mastered all kinds of tricks like Driving In The Neighborhood and Taking It Out On The Highway and All Kinds Of Intersections and even that jaunty little wave you give your fellow motorists to indicate they can go ahead and cut in ahead of you.
I felt very smug, the first time I rode with him. Alas, I didn’t make the connection at the time, but this is a lot like the first chapter or two of a new project. You’re feelin’ good, virtuous even; this is going to be the best book you ever wrote, and it’s a privilege to see it unfold. You might experiment with extra points of view, or add a unicorn in chapter five. In short, it’s a huge pleasure just being an author.
Then you get a little further along. Ideas – not coming so quickly. What made you think you could master a single point of view, much less several? Weren’t you supposed to throw in some conflict by now? And how are you ever going to stretch this thing out to 80,000 words?
A similar malaise descended upon my fresh-minted driver oh, about the third time he took the car out on the road. No longer was it a magical experience. No longer did he feel like Aladdin on a magic carpet. Perhaps that’s why he decided to spice up the experience with a bit of back-talking and an invigorating measure of hell-bent risktaking.
Speed limits were suddenly speed suggestions, cars in front of us drew his bumper perilously close with a curious magnetism, and he took an especial delight in barreling down exit ramps like a landing aircraft with brake failure. He started using the long stretches between stoplights to fiddle with the radio and adjust the rear-view mirror and, one memorable time, to rest his head on the steering wheel and appear to take a nap. The more I hollered, the more he insisted I was overreacting.
Along about now, I was also struggling more and more with my book. I toyed with the idea of extreme measures to breathe some life into the plot. How about giving a character an extra supernatural power? A past life that was not revealed in book one? Despairing, I highlighted about seven thousand words one afternoon and deleted them in a fit of pique; panicking the next day, I tried to resurrect them from the hard drive but they were gone for good.
Meanwhile T-wa clipped a driver’s-side mirror on a sedan parked a block from our house.
He had his first fender bender at a stoplight a few blocks from his high school.
He turned into oncoming traffic after a movie. Thankfully it was very slow-moving matinee traffic and everyone was happy to wait while he got our car turned back around in the proper direction.
In a state of complete despair, I struck a deal with the boy: I would keep quiet about all the tiny errors if he promised to listen when I spoke up about the big ones. It was hard. I nearly bit my tongue in half and expired from holding my breath, but I managed to keep my mouth shut then entire three miles home from school the other day, blurting out only one comment – something like “don’t hit that nice man on the bicycle” – the whole way.
And what do you know – the boy stepped up. The next time we went for a drive, he was a model driver. He didn’t cut anyone off, cross any medians, frighten any pedestrians – and he capped off the experience by parking perfectly between the lines at the Safeway.
The book’s the same way. On the days when I just trust the story to make its way to the surface, when I don’t bemoan and curse and condemn the thing, it chugs along nicely. The moral of this story might be faith – as in, having a little, no matter what the endeavor, might not be a bad idea.
I’m still grateful every time the Volvo comes safely home to roost with my boy at the wheel, and I’m also not in any hurry for him to get his license. What about you all – any advice for this nail-biting mother of a teenage driver?
Sophie grew up in central Missouri, daughter of a history professor father and an artist mother. She earned a degree in computer science and made very little use of it. After living in Chicago for ten years, she and her husband packed up the kids and moved to Northern California in 1998.
Most important influences on Sophie's work? The critique group she's belonged to for a decade; her brother, writer Mike Wiecek; and members of the romance and mystery writing communities, who have made for excellent company along the road.
Subscribe to Posts 
Oh, Sophie, Sophie, Sophie. My condolences. I have four children all with a different last name than mine. While I am a Tabke they are Andrettis.
All four of my kids drive like their father, however unlike he, who is Bondurant trained and can drink a cup of coffee, talk on the radio and steer his car all while chasing a bad guy at 120 mph, my children only think they can do all of the above.
I refuse to drive with either of my sons.
by Karin Tabke February 3rd, 2010 at 4:14 amSo Karin you know one of the reasons you’re my idol is that you raised all those kids to functional adulthood and survived. I can totally see some Andretti tendencies too – would have guessed you’d be a hotfoot! In a red sports car…
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:01 amThat is your son??? Why did I think you had little ones??? He’s too cute–let’s not introduce our prodigy, okay? Not for a few years at any rate.
My daughter is also 16 and in the process of getting her license. I love that she’s driving–she’s very responsible. I can’t wait for her to actually get the license (we were late getting the permit) because then she can drive all the kids to school. And to and from the school after late practice. (She’s an athlete–volleyball, basketball, and she’s thinking of adding softball in the spring–because it’s not like she has anything else to do, like homework.)
by Allison Brennan February 3rd, 2010 at 4:40 amAllison, my second born is my super-responsible one. I imagine she’ll teach herself to drive in a single afternoon, administer her own test, and pass herself and then never get a ticket. My sweet boy on the other hand turned seventeen quite some time ago and we’re still waiting for him to get the basic philosophy down – that whole “first do no harm” thing….
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:03 amI had mixed feelings about son #1 learning to drive. It would free me from a lot of taxi-mom duties. But it meant my #1 son would be driving. A car. On the road. (And since we live in Tourist Mecca, the percentage of total driving idiots is astronomical.)
I had a manual transmission, so the deal was, he took driver’s ed at school until he understood the basics of go, stop, left, right, etc. Once he had that down, we (and thank God, the “we” was mostly hubby) taught him the gear shifting bits.
I told him he’d be ready to drive when he drove one of the school cars and stepped on the nonexistent clutch when he stopped. He looked at me as though I were nuts. But sure enough, about a month or so later, he gave me his sheepish, “Can’t believe Mom was right” look and told me his left foot was now doing its thing regardless of whether the pedal was there.
Good luck!
by Terry Odell February 3rd, 2010 at 7:49 amOh my gosh i so remember those days! Not only did I learn to drive on a manual, it was my mom’s old, persnickety VW van. That thing had to be babied and jostled just to keep from dying at every intersection. It had its own whole tau of automobile behavior. After than when I first drove a standard transmission I felt like the car was driving itself!
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:05 amOh, Sophie, I remember those days. My baby, now 19, didn’t want to tackle learning until she was almost 17. She was so nervous. I was so impatient and frustrated! I recall once shouting something at her and she just crossed her arms over her chest and said, “Fine, you drive.” Problem was, she was BEHIND the steering wheel and the car was moving down the road about 40 MPH!
by Debra Webb February 3rd, 2010 at 8:32 amYou remember shouting….”once”??? Wow, you must be made of pure steel! We don’t generally leave the driveway without a fair bit of screaming taking place first. I admire your calm…and sounds like your daughter had your number…
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:07 amI admire your calm, Sophie! The thought of teen drivers terrifies me. I can’t believe how fast I used to whip around. In fact, I don’t believe I actually learned to drive well until I had babies strapped in car seats in back and started paying attention to my safety and everyone else’s. Now I’m one of those people who scowls at teenagers as they speed through the neighborhood. Last week I actually honked at one racing through a school zone.
by Laura Griffin February 3rd, 2010 at 10:48 amLaura, I couldn’t believe how many bad habits I’d acquired when T-wa finally got his permit. Suddenly I realized I needed to set a good example and my whole driving world came crashing down…no more eating lunch while driving, no more bringing Dog along for the ride, no more talking on the phone, no more sailing through yellow lights, no more rolling stops. I’m definitely a granny driver now because I know that T-wa’s watching my every move…and he is quick to let me know if I cross a lane line or exceed the speed limit. Yeah cause suddenly he’s the big expert…
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:09 amBreathe…just breathe in through the nose, out through the mouth. Pry your clenched fingers apart and consciously relax your hunched shoulders. You will get through this, at least until the next kid begins driving-something to look forward to.
by Carol Shenold February 3rd, 2010 at 10:53 amCarol, I think I need to print this off and tape it to the dashboard. I believe there have been entire trips around town where I haven’t taken a single gasping breath. And you know what, I’m pretty sure my younger will get her license first by the time this is all said and done!
by Sophie Littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:11 amOMG! My oldest just reached the age to receive her learner’s permit. I’m in no hurry to go get that thing. If I do, you know what that means. She’ll be getting behind the wheel of a vehicle. I don’t know how I’m going to get through this and I have 4 more to do this with. I think by the time the last one is ready I’ll be in a nice, quiet room with padding on the walls.
by HollyD February 3rd, 2010 at 12:20 pmHolly, I cannot *imagine* going through this five times!
However, I’m told that lots of kids take to it like ducks to water. Here’s hoping you have at least a couple of “ducks” in your bunch!
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 5:52 pmI need advise myself! My son is twenty and still doesn’t have his license. Its driving my crazy! He says he don’t need them and has had his permit for several years just doesn’t get out and practice. He’s in college now and I have to drive him back and forth to college.
by Quilt Lady February 3rd, 2010 at 1:37 pmYou know, lots of kids around here are reluctant to learn to drive these days. I have friends in the same shoes you are in, and they get so frustrated. One of my friends handed her daughter a bus schedule and told her to have a nice time, and that she’d be available to drive her to the DMV for her test, but that was about it. I don’t think that would work on my boy – he could outstubborn an army, I think. I’m sending you good luck wishes…as with all things with my boy, when he wants something bad enough, he’ll do it – until then? – nada.
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 5:53 pmQuilt lady… quit driving him.
Problem solved. Why should he do it himself if you’re going to do it for him?
I don’t mean that harshly. I’ve done it myself, with other things. It’s easy to get into the mindset of, “Oh, but if I don’t do it, then he won’t accomplish X, and X is really important, and once he’s done X, he’ll be better off… so how can I deny my child the ability to be better off?” Except, after X… comes Y. Then Z. Then AA. And BB. So stop driving him. He’s old enough to solve the problem for himself.
by Toni McGee Causey February 4th, 2010 at 1:12 amOne day, you could be sitting there writing away at a draft when you see a text message pop up that says, “Okay, I’m fine. Active shooter’s down.” Because your son’s on a SWAT team and they had to take down an active shooter in a bar where one had been killed, three were critical, and there were still hostages in the bar… or the other one text you that “the fire’s out now, don’t worry.”
Sometimes it gets easier, but sometimes, there are just bigger things out there that they’re going to do. It’s hard to let go, but the thing is, you’ve raised him to be a strong, independent, smart guy. (The really crappy part about that is that they actually *learn* to be independent and go off and do stupid things, like join a police force where someone could shoot at them.) But on the whole, it all works out. It’s just a leap of faith thing.
(I know, I didn’t help a single bit, did I?)
by toni mcgee causey February 3rd, 2010 at 1:55 pmToni – Way to go. You raised two amazingly brave sons. One of my boys, he’ll be 15 this summer wants to join the Army like his dad. That is very scary for me, but I know that if he does indeed enlist, I will have to give him my love and support. Can you give lessons?
by HollyD February 3rd, 2010 at 2:17 pmI dunno, Holly, it was easy to support them both. Mostly, because I told myself for years, “They’re going to be men. Men who are not mama’s boys. That means they’re gonna go do crap that you’d rather they didn’t.” And partially because their hearts were in the right place. They wanted to do things that, while scary, are necessary, and it was important to them.
Plus, I had enough experience early on in life that people could get killed in car wrecks, just driving to school. There’s no way to protect them from life. Prepare them, sure… protect them? Nope. So why make us both crazy, which would mean time not enjoyed? Life’s too short.
by toni mcgee causey February 3rd, 2010 at 3:08 pmOh, and thank you, Holly–but both boys ended up being good more by their own personalities and choices than my parenting skills. I got lucky. I did a few smart things occasionally which mitigated all of the dunderheaded things I did, and hey, they survived. Score for me.
by toni mcgee causey February 3rd, 2010 at 3:10 pmYou are a wise woman, Toni.
by Allison Brennan February 3rd, 2010 at 8:40 pmtoni, that was a great reminder. Sometimes I think my biggest job is going to be stepping aside and letting this boy become a man. You’ve clearly done that with your guys and I’m deeply impressed…
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 5:55 pmAdvice? Your nails will grow back.
Sophie–Is the book you are working on a follow-up to your wonderful Bad Day for Sorry? I’m sure hoping we get more of Stella & company. Good luck on all of your current challenges!
by GSM February 3rd, 2010 at 3:08 pmOh GSM, thank you for your kind thoughts!! I am indeed growing my nails back (only to bite them off again any time I leave them alone for a while!) – and this summer I will be writing the 4th stella book – yup I’ve got 3 turned in. They come out June ’10 and June ’11 as far as I know. Thank you for asking!! (what I’m working on right now is the second in the YA series. Tentatively called UNFORSAKEN)
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 5:57 pmSophie, that was such a delight to read! I recall my own learning days and my mother always told my friends she rode with me clutching the door handle and praying she’d stay alive. LOL.
LIz
by Liz Falkner February 3rd, 2010 at 4:12 pmLiz, it’s so funny, every experienced parent I talk to says about the same thing, that they did a lot of yelling and praying. (and I figure the others are lying
It *does* make it easier to know this is a time-honored tradition….and to think about the day when my boy has to teach *his* child to drive…oh that will be sweet revenge
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 5:58 pmOh, this is a tough one. The weird thing is I’ve been on both sides of the situation.
When I was learning to drive, I thought I was the most cautious driver ever (still am, have never gotten a ticket) and yet, my mother would nearly pass out from fright every time she was in the passenger seat. Listening to her, you’d think I was doing the Indy 500. I just wrote it off as her being Mom and really protective of her kid’s (and her own) life.
But then I met my husband, who drives faster than a tornado and weaves in and out of traffic as if he’s on a motorcycle, only he’s in our mid-sized sedan. I’ve begged, cried, nagged but he thinks I’m overreacting. And he always does get us home safely. This makes me realize I’ve turned into my mother.
by Pop Culture Nerd February 3rd, 2010 at 6:18 pmPCN I have turned into such a gramma driver, you wouldn’t believe it. And I have sympathy for your mom. I am wayyyyy more critical and shriek-y than I should be, I know – but i just can’t stop myself! It’s something they put in the mom tea…
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 10:50 pmSophie, your son is cute! And you too pretty to be his mom.
Hubby and I taught all three of our boys to drive. We were relentless, making them drive everywhere in every possible weather condition. I HATED it, but the end result was that, although I aged 10 years in six months, by the time they had their license, I had a fair amount of confidence in them.
I loved your comment about writing, and trusting the story to make it’s way to the surface.
by Jen Lyon February 3rd, 2010 at 7:30 pmJen, you are sweet as all get out and was that a nice comment to discover….after yelling at my little darling to do his chores
I know you are right about just buckling down and making him drive as much as possible in all conditions, and I’m renewing my resolve to do that.
Someone gave me some advice about training my puppy, which was to pour on the time and effort up front, that I’d be happy in the long run. I think it might be the same for these durn young drivers…
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 10:51 pmSophie, you don’t look old enough to have a 17-year-old! I’m lucky; both the kids were driving already by the time I married Tod.
by Marlyn February 3rd, 2010 at 11:28 pmMarlyn thanks! – but I’m plenty old enough. I had T-wa when I was 29 and Junior when I was 31…nowadays people often have kids much later and I wonder where they find the energy (and you *know* I am in awe of all you moms of large families – you are goddesses). My girlfriend who is, ahem, a couple of years older than me has one-year-old twin girls. I think they should give her a Congressional Medal of Honor.
by sophie littlefield February 3rd, 2010 at 11:42 pmSophie,
In South Dakota, you can get your learner’s permit at…Fourteen.
Not kidding. The kids need to help out on the farm and ranch, which was the basis for the law. It’s changed a little, it used to be you could drive by yourself when you were 14, now, you have to have an adult with you for at least six months before you can drive alone.
My older daughters were driving by themselves by age 15, and yes, teaching them to drive is/was hubby’s responsibility
by Lori G. Armstrong February 8th, 2010 at 9:00 am