I launched a new video series last week called The Weekly ChRONicle—a day-by-day glimpse into what building a creative life actually looks like, unfiltered. As I told viewers, the first one was “the first pancake.” It’s a little messy, a little slow, and full of workflow lessons I’m already iterating on. Editing takes longer than I expect. The footage pile is bigger than anyone wants to sit through. But there’s something honest about showing the process instead of just the highlight reel.
Joy Boy, Interrupted
No update from this house is complete without Hudson—my “boss,” my “sweet joy boy,” my built-in excuse to get outside every single morning regardless of what’s on the to-do list. Watching him play in the yard, catch the bathmat out of some inexplicable instinct, or nap through an entire afternoon has become the punctuation mark on otherwise packed days.
Why I Write
The heart of this week wasn’t the gym schedule or the lawn mowing (though there was plenty of both). It was an email.
A woman from Gilda’s Club—an organization I turned to for group counseling after my husband Ken died—wrote to tell me my book was one of the most beautiful things she’d read about grief. She’d recommended it to friends, family, and members. She invited me to participate in their Day of Remembrance this November.
I cried reading it. Not because it was unexpected, but because it’s exactly why I write:
“This isn’t ego talking. This is just somebody who felt something so deeply, he had no choice but to write about it.”
When someone tells me they connected with what I wrote, it makes the pain that produced it feel worth something. If my experience helps even one more person navigate their own grief — and if that means Ken’s memory does the same — that’s everything.
Small Wins, Stacking Up
The rest of the week was a patchwork of small, hopeful developments:
A CD sale fundraiser at my local library (and, as always, the joy of harassing patrons alongside old friends)
Progress editing my next book, three chapters down
A freelance writing lead that turned into an actual contract job by Saturday—my first big client
A published Substack piece on how differently I handle stress since leaving corporate life (a cracked phone screen barely fazed me this time)
Prepping for a book talk at an author event next month
The Throughline
None of this is glamorous. It’s granola and Trello boards and pricing stickers running out at the library sale. But it’s mine—built one small, deliberate choice at a time, with a dog at my feet and a reason to keep writing.
Here’s to another week of planting seeds.
Ron Stempkowski is the author of The Luck We Carry: Love, Loss, and the Stories That Shape Us, a memoir-in-essays about learning to move with grief instead of moving on. If this story resonated, you can grab a signed copy—complete with a handwritten note—at ronstempkowski.com, or get your copy wherever books are sold. And if you'd like more stories like this one, join the journey and get them straight in your inbox.