Sometimes, it's hard to avoid jealousy. Yesterday, while driving to work, I happened upon a radio show with author Richard Russo. I only caught the last ten minutes or so, with Russo speaking a little about the future of small towns (I'm only familiar with Empire Falls and Bridge of Sighs, but they both center around the transformation of small communities) and also about the writing process. I've never written a novel. Heck, I'm pretty sure I don't want to. But after listening to Russo talk about the process, I got more than a little jealous. Here's a (clearly talented) guy who went from writing short stories to fame, fortune, and (most important to me) a life of writing.

Don't get me wrong here. Sure, the fortune would be nice. The fame? Honestly, I would hate that. But to be able to fill my hours with writing? Oh please, bring it ON!

So last night I'm reading my local paper. I love that thing. It's the kind of publication where you can read about how a guy visited this area and decided to stay because of its beauty. He's always wanted to live in a small town and is now working for Parks & Recreation. They show a picture of him working on the roof of the dugout at the Little League diamond.

Why does everybody else's life seem simpler than mine? Uh, anyway...

I read an article in the paper about local poet Peter Tuttle. He started out work life as a journalist but gradually redirected things toward writing. The most inspiring bit for me came when Tuttle quit his job to renovate some old fishing shacks, the goal being to live rent-free and have more time to devote to writing.

It's pretty obvious that most creative life success stories involve a very large dose of one thing: persistence. I know this. So when I get a little jealous, it quickly reflects back at me, illuminating that long list of things to do. Yes, it is a long list, but not an impossible one.

Yes, persistence... that is the word. The envy needs to go in the back pocket. It's not doing me any good.