nostalgia
The Inspiration for "Route 66 Dreams"
We were a road trip family. My happiest memories were those trips in the family station wagon. Those were the memories we would reminisce about at Rascal’s, a restaurant we ate at on Christmas Eve in my hometown of Napervlle, IL. There was always some funny story or adventure to remember.
My dad took a trip on Route 66 with a friend in his convertible (he and his convertible are pictured above at a wedding- this one I believe before my parents knew each other) before my parents married. I don’t know that they went all the way to Los Angeles because I don’t remember conversations about LA. We do have photos and home movies he took of the hotels in Las Vegas, I believe where they must have gone instead before heading back to Chicago.
When my dad and I took the first trip to Albuquerque to sign me up for my graduate school classes and find an apartment to live, I remember how he turned the car off I-40 right when you drive into Albuquerque after the canyon, at Tramway. Central, as Route 66 is known here, is just a block away and we took it all the way through town. What I remember most are his comments that there were few motels left and instead mostly mobile home dealers.
We were a Holiday Inn family and it was a game that after we passed the billboard of our chosen location for that night, to see who could spot the familiar Holiday Inn sign.
These road trips laid the foundation for “Route 66 Dreams.” While we never drove west (most of our trips kept us east of the Mississippi), we did a lot of driving– there was always a new place to stay and a list of sites to peruse in each place we went. The Danielson family isn’t my family, Jana’s story isn’t mine beyond the dream of wanting to be a writer.
Instead, her story was born of me wondering how I found myself wanting to be a writer, of wondering what it might have been like if I’d had the same adventures she had, a father who was much more open than mine ever was. There are so many stories to tell and there are small pieces of me in this story (and things that I experienced) but mostly, it was about exploring something I had started to wonder…where are our dreams born?
For Jana, they were born on this trip and it’s this trip in her life that I’ve chosen to share with the backdrop of the nostalgic eighties (I do believe 1986 was the best year for music and maybe a reason I chose to center the book in that very year) and a family vacation.
Knowing Myself
I’m sure it’s no surprise that that’s me in the photo above. My mom hung this photo in our hall– she had every reason to be proud of it, not because I was in it but because of sunshine she caught bouncing off the water. And the bright colors I’m wearing. That’s me, still today.
When I look at this photo I’m reminded how well I know myself. And how important that is for continuing to forge forward in my life- and navigate all the challenges that come with forging forward.
I don’t like the pandemic. In fact, I hate the pandemic for a lot of reasons as we all do. But I still believe that we’ve been given an opportunity to make positive changes in our lives. The hard part is many people aren’t sure how to do that, especially where to start.
So let me help you.
Start asking yourself questions– Who am I? What do I want from life?
You might not have answers to either of these right away and that’s okay. Remember, sustainable change, the kind that lasts, doesn’t happen overnight. It’s a long, slow road. But it’s worth to stay on it.
Ask those questions as you’re driving, cutting vegetables for dinner. Write them down in a notebook and then jot down answers as they come. You don’t need to write in sentences and things might not make sense right now. That’s okay!
First you need to throw it out to the universe so the universe can throw the responses back to you.
And listen.
You never know where the answers might come from, but the more you ask and the more you work at listening, you’ll find they are right there in front of you waiting for you to acknowledge them.
The Motel Connection
Greg says that if you take me to a motel with a “parking lot pool,” I’ll be happy. He’s pretty right on that.
I don’t know how it formed or where it came from, but my entire life I’ve had a fascination with motels and their pools. Growing up, we took a lot of vacations, mostly across the Eastern half of the United States (one vacation focused on touring Civil War battlefields), the six of us crammed into a 1977 silver Chevy Impala station wagon.
There was a big green Coleman cooler in the back and Denise and I spent our time in what someone coined “the back back” of the station wagon.
Our nights were spent at Holiday Inns (with a few Howard Johnsons sprinkled in there) and it was a family game to see who could spot the Holiday Inn sign first when we arrived at our exit.
These vacations would be the happy family memories that we would discuss when we ate out on Christmas Eve or other times we gathered around the kitchen table. My dad drank too much, his unhappiness poured into his beer mug, and my parents just generally weren’t happy in life or together.
But these trips, these stories about the various things that happened to us and the unique of each place we visited were Linn Family lore and happiness.
Perhaps that’s why I’ve taken my inspiration from the motels and wrapped it into so much of what I do today. A friend on Instagram said refreshed bathroom and guest room reflect that retro motel vibe. I know that I’m not trying to recreate my past with my family, but in some way I’m taking what was and making it part of my past and my future.
As summer officially begins in a week, here’s to the summer road trip!