My personal husband thinks he knows something about writing

It all started with him drafting a book that eventually became Good Writing: 36 Ways to Improve Your Sentences. Was he grifting on my Bird by Bird reputation? Is this why his little craft book hit the best-seller list, making him a marketable New York Times bestselling author, which is a thing, and has made him even harder to live with?

Now he’s copying me again by going out and selling seats in writing retreats, something I did for decades before I met him. I don’t teach much anymore because travel has all the delight of a dental chair for me. Neal claims he enjoys airports and airplanes still, which makes me wonder whether I married a serious person.

But as a good tradwife, which I’m trying to be, I’ll support him in his cockamamie ventures, especially the ones that get him out from underfoot. Neal is leading a five-day retreat in Montana in September, a few miles from Yellowstone, when the tourists are gone and the animals are starting their migrations—bison, elk, moose and even the occasional wolf, moving downhill everywhere you turn.

Seriously, folks, Neal is a master teacher at the two things he’ll be focusing on: taming the inner critic and improving sentences. For nearly ten years now I’ve watched his students light up and gape at his unusual techniques, and return again and again.

If you’re interested, here’s the link: shapesoftruth.com/montana-retreat