Small Talk
A few Notes on brevity and the joy of words.
A couple of weeks ago, I was sitting on our porch swing, thinking about what I want to share in my Substack column in the coming months.
What could I do to freshen up my column—to create something new and hopefully helpful?
I’d just written a column about downsizing my office, so the word “decluttering” came to mind. And then these words floated in: “As I find more peace in my inner home, I need less and less in my material one.”
Huh.
I opened up Canva, created a little meme with those few words, fiddled with the type fonts, and thought, “Well that was fun.”
Then I thought of other words. “Healing.” “Peace.” “InPowerment” (a word my guides gave me a year and a half ago, right after the presidential election:).
I sat on that porch swing for a couple of hours, fiddling and playing with single words and definitions.
And now I can’t seem to stop.
It feels like a kind of word game. Think of a single word, and listen for the rest.
I’ve always loved moving words around. Bring in a new one, back off on another. Shuffle them around. Find a more robust verb. Read them out loud. Hear them as music. Sculpt them into something beautiful or arresting.
Today, for instance, I was working with one of my writing mentees. She had about 770 words in a piece she wants to read in the memoir class I’m teaching, and we needed to bring it down to about 500. So we went through it together—sentence by sentence, word by word—taking out anything extraneous, tightening everything that could be tightened.
It was like giving the piece better posture and a tailored suit.
She learned a lot. And I had fun sharing the pleasure of editing.
It makes me think of the years I spent happily copyediting and copy fitting magazine articles, which also felt like a game to me. How do you take a five-inch story and turn it into a three-inch story? How do you keep the heart of it, while letting everything else fall away? How do you get rid of a “widow” or “orphan”—typesetting language for a single word that appears on a line by itself at the end of a paragraph or top of a page?
It was some of the best writing training I could have had.
And now, these little memes feel like an extension of that.


Our attention is such a rare commodity these days. We’re all moving quickly, scrolling quickly, thinking quickly.
If people are generous enough to give me their attention for even a few seconds, I want to make those seconds count.
So if you bump into these little Notes in your Substack feed, you’ll know where they came from—somewhere between a porch swing, a lifetime of loving words, and the joy of saying just enough.
And if you feel called to click on the little heart below them, please do.
Maybe “heart” will have a meme of its own one of these days.
Blessings,
Deb
From readers to writers
I got to spend last Saturday with the lovely people pictured here—writers, friends, and fellow Summiteers, which is what we call our Story Summit community.
We gathered at the DSM Book Festival in Des Moines for a panel on something we have all personally experienced: making the leap from reader to writer.
There’s something special about being in a space like that—surrounded by people who love books and are starting to hear that quiet voice: Maybe I have something to say, too.
The festival was held in the neighborhood where I grew up, hosted by an independent bookstore called Beaverdale Books. When a petite and soft-spoken dynamo named Alice Meyer first opened the store, it was at a time when independent bookstores—and even the big chains—were closing their doors. But she had a different vision: support local authors, build community, create a place where stories could live and breathe.
And she’s done exactly that. The store isn’t just surviving—it’s expanding. In fact, they just doubled their space. It has become a true community pillar.
Which is an important reminder: Wherever you are, support your local bookstore. Support your library. These places matter more than ever.
As for our panel, we talked about what it really means to become a writer—and one of the most important things we shared is this:
Being a writer is so much bigger than writing a book or a screenplay.
It might be a Substack column. A podcast. A memoir. Your family’s stories, written down so they’re not lost. It’s about giving form to something inside you that wants to be expressed.
Of course, we also talked about rejection, because every one of us has experienced it—more than once. Probably more times than we can count.
But the writers who keep going—the ones who stay curious and open—those are the ones who build a life in writing.
There’s no single path from reader to writer. But there is a moment when something shifts. When reading is no longer enough, and you feel the desire to step into the story yourself.
If you’ve felt that… you’re already on your way. And if you’d like support, please let me know. Story Summit Writer’s School will help you find your path.
And if you’re looking for more writing and spiritual support…
The book is available here for pre-order. I can’t wait to introduce it to you October 13!
“A WORLD OF YOUR OWN” IS A READER-SUPPORTED PUBLICATION. To receive new posts and support my work, please consider becoming a paid subscriber.
A NOTE TO MY READERS: I write “A World of Your Own” as a member of the Iowa Writers’ Collaborative, which is led by Julie Gammack, of Des Moines. I’m honored to be part of this group, featuring the diverse voices of more than 70 professional writers and journalists across the state of Iowa. I encourage you to check out their columns.





What a genius idea! Thank you for sharing. I plan to add this to my meditations. And I look forward to reading your book. You are such an inspiration.
This: “the joy of saying just enough.” So I won’t say any more except thank you. 🌻