The Rise (and Fall) of the Mini Hut
Childhood imagination, creative freedom, and the joy of making something from nothing.
When I was twelve years old, my friend Ann and I launched a transportation company out of my parents’ garage.
It was called The Mini Hut.
Our business model was simple: neighborhood kids could pay us a nickel to sit inside a cardboard box while we pushed them down the sidewalk on an old cart.
In our minds, this was the beginning of a thriving small business. Possibly even a franchise.
It was the late 1960s, and Ann and I spent long summer days making things. We sewed beanbag frogs, spent hours poring over Butterick and Simplicity craft patterns, and wrote books and magazines for each other. If there was a way to create something out of almost nothing, we were ready to try it.
A year or two earlier, Pizza Hut had introduced an ad campaign with a jingle that went:“Putt, putt, to the Pizza Hut.” It was so catchy, it caught on fast—the equivalent of “going viral” today. Ann and I were inspired.
We found an old appliance box, turned it upside down, painted it white, decorated it with daisy decals, and painted “The Mini Hut” on one side. Then we cut out a couple of squares for windows and duct-taped our most excellent creation on top of an old cart my brother once used for his paper route.
We were ready for business.
For a nickel, neighborhood kids could take a ride in our Putt-Putt Mini Hut. And we’d even sing the jingle for them, which was not much of a bonus.
Unfortunately, our enterprise was less lucrative than a lemonade stand. Most neighborhood children wisely declined the opportunity to bounce down the sidewalk inside a hot cardboard box, which grew surprisingly warm in the Iowa sun.
On the bright side, we never upset the cart, no one was ever injured, and we never had to deal with liability insurance.
Still, it was a sad day when our transportation empire shut down almost as quickly as it started. We folded up the cardboard box and returned the cart to its place next to the shovels and rakes in the back of the garage. Instead of becoming the latest fad, The Mini Hut faded quietly into neighborhood history.
But the feeling of creating something from nothing? That stayed.
That impulse is still alive all these decades later.
It’s why I love writing. It’s why I love teaching writing. It’s why I have the joy of heading up a writing school.
Because I remember how satisfying it is to create simply for the joy of it.
Even when I’m writing about something difficult—as I am right now while preparing a eulogy for a beloved family member—the creative spirit still finds its own kind of satisfaction.
]A sentence finally lands the way I want it, or the perfect verb clicks into place, or a single sticky detail brings the story to a satisfying close. Something inside says, Yes. That’s it.
Creation feeds the soul in a way almost nothing else can. And we could all use some soul nourishing these days.
So here’s what I encourage you to do this week:
Find a new way to express yourself.
Write something.
Draw something.
Plant something.
Cook something.
Sing something.
Make something that didn’t exist before today.
I suspect you had your own version of a Mini Hut when you were a kid. A backyard business. A neighborhood newspaper. Some wonderfully impractical idea that delighted you enough to try it.
Whatever fun fueled you then, it still lives in you today. And it’s time to get acquainted with it again.
I’d love to hear about your creations in the comments.
Sending blessings,
Deb
When we create, we feel more peaceful.
On the first Wednesday of every month, I hold a one-hour group coaching session via Zoom for my paid Substack subscribers and my A Course in Miracles students. I always do a guided meditation, but this month, I did two, and I want to share them with you.
The first one is about finding the peace within, which is directly linked to creativity.
When we create, we feel more peaceful. When we’re peaceful, our creativity can flow. And in a world where there’s so much destruction, every flow of creativity—no matter how small—is a quiet vote for peace.
During the Zoom session, I got a request for another meditation I call The Posture of Grandeur, and I’ll share it below.
It’s one of the practices included in The Writer’s Miracle Method. When the book launches on October 13, you’ll see how this meditation fits into the larger context of writing and creativity.
And speaking of that…
After The Writer’s Miracle Method comes out this fall, I’ll lead a 30-day live program, meeting each weekday morning on Zoom so we can practice the program in the book together. Think of it as a way to begin each day anchored in creativity, peace, and purpose—and experiencing the miracle of shifting from fear to love.
More about that as we get closer.
In the meantime, don’t wait—use your creativity now. Because that same spirit that built a cardboard Mini Hut in a garage one summer afternoon is still alive within you.
And the world you’re creating is always a little brighter when you let it out.
It’s time to write your memoir. And I’d like to help.
I’ve learned over the years that everyone carries a story inside them. They just aren’t quite sure where to begin—or how to shape their life experiences into something meaningful on the page.
If that sounds familiar, I’d love to help.
On March 18, I’m offering a free webinar called Three Memoir Must-Haves, where I’ll share some of the essential elements that make a memoir work.
We’ll also talk about my upcoming six-month Beginning Memoir class, which begins March 31, and I’ll be happy to answer any questions you might have.
If you’ve been thinking, Someday I’d like to write my memoir, this may be the moment to begin.
Your story matters. And I’d love to help you bring it to life.
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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.
Here’s the recording of The Posture of Grandeur from my Zoom session earlier this month.
This version takes you deep into a place of peace and the quiet power of Divine energy flowing through you. But once you become familiar with it, you can do a much shorter version—sometimes in less than a minute—any time you need it during the day.
All it takes is a moment to pause. It’s a beautiful way to reset whenever you feel irritated, anxious, or overwhelmed. I often use it before a difficult conversation, before writing, or anytime I feel myself slipping out of alignment.
Thank you for being a paid subscriber! Your support helps me continue these Substack columns, which are all about helping you create the world you want inside.
We get to do this together, and I’m so grateful.
We had a fair once in our back yard. One of our exhibits was a grass snake in a mayo jar. My sis & our cousin had a biz briefly. They gathered shiney rocks & sold them door to door.
I love your story, Deb! (I would've taken one of your Mini Hut rides.) I think I've shared your urge to create most of my life, beginning with the little stories I wrote as a child, then veering into creating things with my hands. So –– macrame, knitting, crocheting, needlepoint, basket weaving, etc., etc. Oddly, since I began writing again with Story Summit, I've pushed aside all of my other creative ventures. It's writing that gives me fulfillment. Thank you for your inspiration and influence in bringing me back to my first love. And thank you for the meditations, which I'll try tomorrow!