The idea of boutique-ing programs or projects can fly in the face of what seems like big success. We often think of success as being large, more people, more things–more. Boutique-ing isn’t so much about numbers as it is about creating something that is memorable to individuals–no matter how many (2 or 2000).

One key thing to remember when boutique-ing a program is get to know your participants as much as possible before your event, your week-long workshop, your program or happening. What are their needs, expectations and reasons for putting your event or program on their calendars? How can you find more about them without prying or being obnoxious? What questions can you ask–not simply to ask questions, but to help make a connection with the person and and the happening?

All this sounds simple, though it takes intention and willingness to get personal.

Be gentle, kind and real when asking questions of your potential participants. Encouraging interest  can make room for humor, creating a helpful bond between all participants and those behind or in front of the scenes.

Keep thinking this: How can we make this happening more memorable, easier, more boutique-ed?

Recently, I came across this post I wrote some time ago, musing on writing and and how it can can be intertwined with loneliness. As I re-read this piece, I thought about how in many ways there is a distinct type of loneliness that can surround our writing practices and often infuse our writing, particularly when we are working character struggles or lone characters. I made a few edits to the post, infused by a few new ideas.

Often we think of good story scenarios as being ones that have multiple characters and clear, obvious and perhaps predictable happenings. We long for happy endings even in the mire of worry and worrisome scenes.

Good stories can sometimes be lonely stories. What I mean by lonely is that the story can be focused mostly on a singular character. The cast of characters are not there, filling out a storyline or bringing more layers to the tale. Sometimes the story is a singular one. A story that is about one, single character–one single person’s reactions and responses to the world that they have stepped into or the world that feels is happening to them.

Often a singular story turns outs to be a poem. Or poem-like.

No one wants to be trapped inside one character’s mind for too long. It becomes too insular. And still there are singular stories. The stories of what happened when she crossed this milestone she set for herself but never told anyone about it. Or the story of when the world came crashing in when there was no one else around to hear or feel impact.

There will be lonely scenes when expressing these moments. Allow that loneliness. You may want to bring an outside character in to bring another insight or perspective for a moment, even if in memory. As in real life, we are so often left to figure it out for ourselves. This is lonely business.

There are still colors, light and rare shadows in loneliness, even when life is drab.