Last night as we were avoiding Dairy Queen driving home from our personal training session, The Cheerleader I Live With and I started chatting about The Book. He was telling me that even though he likes my style of writing, he knows that my strength does not lie in creating fiction. “True”, I replied, “that’s where YOUR strength is”.

“True”, he replied, “which is why I wanted to share my idea with you about The Book…”

The Cheerleader I Live With went on to tell me about how he sees the story taking shape. He threw out, very simply, a good idea about how to pull everything together while still writing in my up-till-now disjointed way.

I sat in silence as we rumbled over the little bridge leading to our home in the middle of nowhere, listening as he laid out what he thought would be the best course The Book might take. I agreed with him completely, and with good humour smacked myself for not thinking of that idea myself. “It’s so simple…”, I said, “how did that completely pass me by?”

Here’s the thing about the relationship I have with The Cheerleader I Live With – we both have the strengths that the other sort of… lacks. Where my depth is the shallowest, his runs deepest. Where his talents waiver, mine are strongest. It’s the coolest damn thing!

So anyway, the gist of all this is that I now have an idea of how to start The Book, and where it can possibly go. Where I once saw it as a brick of mashed words, thanks to The Cheerleader I Live With, I can now see it as a free-flowing road to everywhere.

I’m so grateful to have someone to navigate this journey with me. I couldn’t do it alone, because I wouldn’t do it alone. So, here’s to The Cheerleader I Live With… thank you, mister. You’re just rad. Even when you sing those really annoying songs just to try and bug me.