Unscripted Moments & Final Pages

For months this past spring, my life was full of wedding details. As the mother of the groom, my days leading up to July were filled with arranging family accommodations, pre and post wedding activity details for all of the out-of-town guests, and supporting the couple with final details including cake tasting and flower arrangements. Between the three of us, we were on a quest to orchestrate what I hoped would be a perfect wedding weekend for my son and his beautiful bride. One special piece they asked of me was to create a slide show to be played during the reception. My son’ fiancé sent me photos of her youth, photos of their first dates and I scrolled back through time finding old photos of our family and to more recent photos of holidays together and engagement party pictures. I started the show with a slide that said, “Collect beautiful moments and let them tell a story.” And it did. Of the people they are and how they will grow together.

Now, with summer already fading, I find myself packing a suitcase for a very different adventure: a writing retreat this September in the walled city of Lucca, Italy, where I will tackle the final revision of my latest novel.

At first glance, the two events might seem completely disconnected. One was a whirlwind of family celebration; the other a quest for time and solitude and a deep focus on my own story. But as I look ahead to Tuscany, I realize that the magical wedding weekend we just experienced was actually the ultimate masterclass in how to put the final finishing touches to a story.

Last spring I approached the wedding the same way I approached all my drafts. With spreadsheets, timelines and detailed lists like I do with plot, setting, and structure. In the end hoping the pacing would be just right.

But as the wedding day actually began, I was reminded of a truth every author eventually faces: if you hold onto your original outline too tightly, you suffocate the magic of the story.

The true joy didn’t come from every line-item going exactly as planned—it came from the unscripted moments that no coordinator could ever schedule. The most perfect moment of the entire day happened during the ceremony. My son got deeply choked up while reading his vows to his bride. As the emotion overwhelmed him, she calmly reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a handkerchief, and gently wiped his eyes.

The guests held their breath, and then a wave of pure warmth washed over everyone. It was tender, spontaneous, and utterly beautiful. It was a moment that could never have been manufactured by a plan. Like an author watching their characters take on a life of their own, I got to sit back and watch love make its own brilliant structural edits to our weekend.

Now, as September approaches, the task of my final novel revision feels a lot less intimidating.

Diving into a final edit brings up the exact same feelings I felt before the wedding. You worry about whether all the details will fall into place, whether the emotional beats will land, and if you are truly prepared, to let the story go out into the world.

And July taught me how to trust the process.

When I arrive in Lucca and walk amidst birdsong, trees, hills and the silence of my heart, I will carry that handkerchief moment with me. It is a reminder that while the structure and the planning are necessary to build the framework, the real art happens when we leave room for raw, human vulnerability to breakthrough.

And as I sit down under the red-tiled Italian roofs to polish my manuscript, I won’t just be looking for typos or adjusting phrases here and there. I’ll be looking for those unexpected, unscripted sparks of life. Because whether you are facing your loved one reciting your vows or staring at a manuscript, the secret to a beautiful story is the same: do the work, set the stage, and then step back and let the magic unfold.