I’ve been reading “Big Magic” by Elizabeth Gilbert. You might remember her as the author of “Eat, Pray, Love.” But this book is about creativity. 

“I kept up with my writing, despite the rejections,” writes Gilbert. “I was rejected, rejected, rejected, rejected.” 

That line reminded me of my dad in the late 1950s—an unemployed truck driver sitting up in the attic, typing article after article, revision after revision, hoping one would finally get published.

He’d already spent nights pacing the floor, smoking cigarettes, trying to figure out how he’d feed his family of eight. The trucking company he worked for had refused to repair its brakes. His choice was to keep driving and risk a deadly accident—or quit and lose his income.

He quit. 

He managed to get unemployment, but not before his former employer tried to block it. With no money for legal help, he represented himself and won.

Like Gilbert, he believed in perseverance. My dad wasn’t chasing literary acclaim and didn’t care about turning a clever phrase. He wanted to share his experiences honestly, especially the trauma he carried from World War II.

He could have stayed in college when the invasion began. Instead, he joined the Allies. Later, he wrote about his experiences and spoke publicly about them. That opened the door to a new career as a journalist and columnist.

Gilbert’s message in “Big Magic” is that everyone has an inspirational spark that can change the trajectory of their life, whether you’re not yet 20 or well past 80. 

For my dad, creativity revealed itself at an old Underwood typewriter in the middle of the night. Rejection after rejection came, but still he wrote. Every night after we were in bed, he’d drive to the post office to see if there was an acceptance letter waiting.

And one night, there was—a letter from a military publication, with a $25 check enclosed. It may not sound like much, but in those days, $35 bought a week’s worth of groceries.

I was 12 or 13 and remember his words as clearly as if he’d just spoken them: “I can do anything anyone else can do.”

And he believed it. He had already faced things few could ever comprehend as a young soldier in World War II. He didn’t think he’d survive Normandy, but he did. He was terrified to be sent to the Pacific, but he went. 

He most likely lived with what we now recognize as PTSD. Those late-night beers with fellow vets at the VFW might have been his form of therapy. Fortunately, he found a healthier outlet in writing.

I credit his success to his tenacity and openness to possibility. I never heard him complain about hardship or blame others. He was no victim.

Before he died, I asked him why he thought so many opportunities had come his way.

“I think it was my attitude,” he said. 

Yes. Definitely.

And that was his own kind of big magic.

YOU MAY ALSO LIKE:

Honoring Harold Brown, WWII hero and Pearl Harbor survivor, at 101

From surviving Pearl Harbor to enduring the Pacific’s toughest battles, WWII vet Harold Brown’s life left a lasting legacy of family, compassion and strength. Read More » 

Was Hogan’s Heroes based on a true story? Meet the real Colonel Hogan

Discover the real Colonel Hogan—a WWII bomber pilot and POW at Stalag 13 whose life inspired the hit TV show Hogan’s Heroes. Read More »