I’ve known Amanda Milward for 30 years. We don’t see much of each other these days.  Life gets busy.  We all have to make our own path.  But every time we get together (like this summer), it feels like time has not passed.  Amanda has been through a lot in her life.  You would never know it by the smile on her face.  She has taught me to look at difficult circumstances in a different light.  Life is a challenge.  Life is long, yet short at the same time.  Tragedy and hope are intertwined in some twisted, exhausting dance.  We all must run the race and do our utmost best to seek brighter days ahead.

Hope (the Italian word for “Speranza”) is the one theme you will find in my work.   It is a constant thread in my writing, sometimes simmering under the surface.  Not always obvious.  Not in your face.

I don’t write about an easy hope because in this journey we often go to battle, but in those dark days strive to find the sun, surround yourselves with people who will lift you up and in the end be the best version of who you are.  Don’t settle for constant sarcasm, meanness, bitterness, anger, judgement or blame others for your lot in life.  Take responsibility and fight to find the hope.  Flip the script.

Here’s another person who puts a smile on my face.  Sister Lisa.   Don’t get me wrong, we have our fair share of disagreements.   We’re both pretty stubborn.  Since our mom’s passing, every weekend we get together and watch a film – something my mom did all the time.

On the summer weekend of this photo, we watched one of our favorite films: Ordinary People. Here’s the logine:  The accidental death of the older son of an affluent family deeply strains the relationships among the bitter mother, the good-natured father and the guilt-ridden younger son.

This is not some fast-paced, cutting edge, cynical film with quick cuts, loud music and cookie-cutter characters.  The film is quiet, gentle, complex and yet explodes with such intense emotion, you can’t help but be moved by the closing scene that wraps itself in hope and healing.

It’s the kind of writing that I strive for.  After my last reading of WAVES, I decided to do more edits on the play, tweaked dialogue and generally tighten the script.  I was able to cut an additional 4 pages.  For a script that I thought was already lean, there is always more to cut.  Note to writers, “kill your darlings” as they say, which basically means to cut sections of your writing which you may be fond of, but in the end, doesn’t enhance or move forward your narrative.

I did lots of that cutting at a friends’ cottage out in Muskoka this summer.  One of the friends took a picture of me while I was sitting out by the lake, reading/editing WAVES.

It was surreal reading a play called WAVES and listening to the waves right in front of me.  The atmosphere was helpful getting me in the right mood.  After doing these edits, I’ve sent the play out to more companies, more competitions in the hope that someone out there will be inspired by it.  There has already been some rejections along the way and there surely will be more to come.  That’s the norm.

I hope you’re enjoying these summer days.  I leave you with an expansive look of the photo above.  The view was breathtaking at the cottage and the sounds of the water flapping against the deck was serene.  To more peace, more life, more hope.