I bought a used lawnmower today and gained insight on my writing at the same time.
Here in Blacksburg, there’s a power equipment shop that’s exactly like the one you probably went to with your dad at some point during your childhood. For starters, it’s easy to miss if you’re not looking for it. When you pull into the parking lot you notice two buildings, and for first time visitors, it’s a toss up as to which one is the warehouse and which one contains the showroom.
Then there’s the collection of about 200 push mowers, riding mowers, garden tillers, log splitters, sod cutters, pressure washers, chain saws and weed eaters laying around ready to be fixed or harvested for parts.
I love that place.
That probably explains why I made three visits to buy a used push mower. Each time I went, I looked at the same one. The first time, I was sure I could find a better deal elsewhere. The second time, I was definitely interested but the grass was too wet to try it out. And the third time, I finally bought it.
The lady (and she really was a lady) of the shop pushed the mower around to the workshop for me to have them gas it up and test it out. She left me with the mechanics as she returned to the store to tend to more customers.
Few words came from the mouth of the curly-haired, curly-bearded technician helping me out. He just went about his business of checking the oil, filling the gas tank and pulling the cord to start the mower. But the machine wasn’t paying attention.
So he went back about his business. And that’s when it hit me. We both have the same job, he and I.
We try out new ideas until we get it right.
In between trials, we go back to the elemental process of breaking down parts that aren’t working.
I write drafts and edit them. Sometimes it’s as simple as a couple of quick fixes, other times it drives me to the brink of madness. Either way, it’s my job and it’s not done until the words are right, and everything’s running smoothly.
The mechanic starts with what he knows he needs to do, and if that’s not enough, he begins to narrow down the possibilities until everything’s running smoothly.
I’m no mechanic. Then again, there are days when I don’t feel much like a writer, either. Maybe I’ll just read a small engine repair manual next time I’m wrestling with writer’s block, and about to be pinned.