Writing, Honky Tonks, and The Road Less Traveled

 Austin is my hometown. My first job was pouring pitchers of beer at the Broken Spoke dance hall, home to Willie and Waylon and the boys. I was 13. Was this legal? Not by a long shot but the owners, James and Netta White, were awesome. In lieu of paying me a salary, they let me pull the jukeboxes away from the wall at the end of the night and pick up the change. Their daughter Terri and I were two horse-crazy kids with our whole lives ahead of us. 

Terri stayed in Austin and taught line dancing for the next 30 years, becoming a true Southwestern icon. In fact, she’s featured in Episode One.

I left town after college and never looked back. 

I wanted to be a writer, whatever that entailed. I moved to New York and Belgium and Dallas and Los Angeles. I wrote at ad agencies. I wrote angsty poetry. I wrote scripts at night. I took improv classes and scriptwriting courses and eventually landed a writing fellowship. And then got staffed. And sold pitches. And sold pilots. 

It was hard and lonely.

I didn’t have a mentor.

I didn’t have a community.

I certainly didn't have anyone to do the Cotton-Eyed Joe with.

But I kept writing and setting goals and it eventually paid off. 

It took a while, but I built a group of friends who’ve been the lifeblood of my career.

 Friend, you don’t have to go it alone. 

My coaching business is pretty damn new and one of the first things we’ll be offering is a monthly membership called "The Writers’ Room", an online gathering place for writers and creators.

We’ll clock in, discuss the writing topic of the day, cover a Q&A section and get shit done. 

It's exactly what I would've liked to have had when I was starting out. Or when I was stuck. Or in between gigs. 

Life may have been easier if I'd'a stayed in South Austin. My boyfriend Bucky rode in rodeos, worked at the feed store in Oak Hill and had the sweetest, crookedest smile you ever did see. Maybe we would have gotten married and had a thousand babies. 

But as much as I loved my hometown and the felonious days at the Spoke, it wasn't my path. 

Which brings me to... what's your path in 2022? Think about it, and let me know if there's any way I can help you stay on it.