Mar 142011

I look like a real writer, complete with drug deal in the background...

I’ve been writing for fifteen years. Get Low was my first success, but there were a couple of parts of it that left me wondering if I was “a real writer.” Was I just lucky? Anybody can get lucky. Was I riding on the coattails of others? The other writers did more work than I. Were they the reason for my success?

Was I “a real writer”?

When I got a check in the mail for my second paid gig writing devotions, suddenly I felt like a real writer. It took me a little while to realize why. The full weight of that realization hit me when I read a bible passage that told a story of two people who had it all except for one thing. After they gave it all up for that thing, they found it wasn’t worth it. The light bulb came on.  I had everything and, like the people in this story, I missed it because I was focused on what was missing. Only when that second check came did I understand why. That journey of self discovery, including the bible story that inspired it, is in my sermon from last weekend, “When Is Enough Enough?”


  1. Adam Olenn says:

    Lucky is a two-dollar scratch ticket. Lucky is somebody reading your stuff out of the pile. Luck without substance to back it up is a two-paragraph skim on the way to the trash bin. Unless you’ve got the goods, you ain’t gettin’ a check.

    You, my friend, have gotten the checks. Luck don’t hurt, but it’s only one percent of the game.


  2. Larry Isbell says:

    Well stated, Scott. You hit on a fundamental anxiety that is inside each of us in many ways and on many levels of life.

  3. Beth says:

    I wish I could read your script bc I can’t listen to it at work! The boss sucks (the boss is me).

    You are a writer because you write, but listen to your friend Adam. You wouldn’t be getting checks if you couldn’t back that stuff up.

  4. Scott Seeke says:

    Thank you all. I am no longer in that place in this area of my life, but I’m sure the tragedy of Adam (different Adam) and Eve crops up in other parts of my life. It’s human to see what’s not working and miss what is, but still tragic. It’s also something that, with discipline, we can overcome, and we can live like we truly are: blessed.