Where did The Thursday Night Club, a winter’s tale about four friends performing good deeds, come from?
In case you haven’t already figured it out, I love Christmas; not the commercial Christmas of exchanging wrapped presents. I actually enjoy the brief season when most folks drop their defenses, and are quick with a smile or to lend a helping hand. I love that magical time-period when we remember that we’re all in the same boat, each of us carrying heavy burdens that are usually invisible to the naked eye.
People think that writers must wait for their muse to arrive before they can put pen to paper. In reality, inspiration is more likely to find you if you’re working.
A couple of summers ago, my wife and I were fortunate enough to rent a summer home on Martha’s Vineyard for the week. The owner is a family friend, so the rental rate was affordable. Otherwise, we would have been looking at a day trip to the island.
When scheduling our vehicle to get over to the island, we discovered that there were no spots available on the ferry for Saturday—only Friday. This was a problem, as we’d rented the house from Saturday to Saturday. But we needed the car for the week, so I had no choice but to take it over on Friday, one day ahead of the family. Essentially, this meant that I’d be homeless for a full 24 hours. I’ll just sleep in the car, I decided.
Driving off the ferry on Friday morning, I circled Oak Bluffs in Martha’s Vineyard like a hungry seagull. It took nearly a half hour until I found an open parking spot on the perimeter of the park, reserved for two-hour parking. I quickly set up camp beside a green bench that faced the gazebo. The sky was clear and dry. A perfect for writing, I thought.
Within the first half hour, I began writing a piece that would eventually evolve into The Thursday Night Club, a heartfelt Christmas tale. Every two hours, one of the young summer cops swung by on his Segway, marking rear tires with a colored grease pencil. Once he was out of sight, I took a break from the writing to wipe the green marking off my rear tire, so I wouldn’t get ticketed for overstaying my two-hour limit. Returning to work, I was amused by this comical process, which continued for the next ten hours: I wrote. The cop appeared and marked the tire with a new color. I took a break from the winter’s tale and wiped the tire clean. There was a strange rhythm to it, allowing me some much-needed breaks to eat and drink. And while screeching seagulls shared air space with several colorful kites, I created a winter story, with the hope of challenging my readers to commit good deeds year round.
Sometimes when you write, you never know what you’re going to get. I’ve learned the same is true when committing to helping people. The results are usually greater than anything you could have ever predicted.
Listen to all the episodes on The Thursday Night Club:
Originally published on The Thursday Night Club. It’s FREE, so please subscribe and SHARE it with those you love.
Have you read the original anthology that was the catalyst for The Good Men Project? Buy here: The Good Men Project: Real Stories from the Front Lines of Modern Manhood
If you believe in the work we are doing here at The Good Men Project and want to join our calls on a regular basis, please join us as a Premium Member, today.
All Premium Members get to view The Good Men Project with NO ADS.
A $50 annual membership gives you an all-access pass. You can be a part of every call, group, class, and community.
A $25 annual membership gives you access to one class, one Social Interest group, and our online communities.
A $12 annual membership gives you access to our Friday calls with the publisher, our online community.
Register New Account
Need more info? A complete list of benefits is here.
Stock photo ID:172478051