The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows: silience →
n. the kind of unnoticed excellence that carries on around you every day, unremarkably—the hidden talents of friends and coworkers, the fleeting solos of subway buskers, the slapdash eloquence of anonymous users, the unseen portfolios of aspiring artists—which would be renowned as masterpieces if…
What I Learned When Writing A Book
So it’s the dawn of my book release and I am feeling many things. Nerves. Excitement. A stomachache because I decided to get a Dunkin Donuts breakfast wrap this morning. An ungodly Monday decision.
[Note: Wanna buy a book early? Links are on the side of the page. Read the post below and learn how to be involved in a pre-order giveaway, which ends tonight!]
I was going to write a post, something along the lines of “ten things I learned when writing a book,” because I learned a lot of things. The short list: don’t let Red Bull get warm, nobody is entitled to success, wash your pajamas. The longer list: the worst part of writing and life are the times you have to delete/let go of a part you really love, but oftentimes this process makes you stronger and better. And seriously, just because they are pajamas doesn’t mean you should let them get SO DIRTY.
However, on the dawn of my book release, I realize that I’m feeling VERY On Golden Pond nostalgic, so I decided the thing I really wanted to say.
I came to the Frenemy three years ago without any real mission. Correction. Three years ago, I had no real mission or purpose or cause in general/in life. I was the kind of floating algae at the top of the pond, slapping down margaritas and trying to become obsessed with a new television show and working so I could buy new shoes I could scuff in like a week. So I sort of bought into a lot of things. I believed my self-worth was in my stomach abs. I believed that beautiful women were the ones who looked strong but “were broken inside,” whatever the fuck that means. I believed that I was one of the guys. And when I started The Frenemy, that was generally how I felt.
Three fucking years later, and I have my mission. Maybe I am calling it a mission because I am reading The Hunger Games right now and it makes real life seem pretty banal. But if I had one thing that I wanted to teach one person before I die, it is this:
"My experiences in the Civil Rights movement have illumined my responses to what I perceive to be unjust disciplinary rules in the United Methodist Church, especially rules that denied my right to officiate at my own son’s wedding. As a heterosexual, married clergyman I have a unique opportunity and obligation to challenge the inequitable treatment of gay and lesbian persons, both in church practices and also in the wider society. As Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. reminded us in his “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” “One has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws.” Marrying Tom and Nick was for me a profoundly personal and quintessentially pastoral act. I have been deeply moved by their exceptional bonds, and their strong commitment to a more just and inclusive society."
Chris Cobb, an artist based in San Francisco, has created an amazing installation in bookshop called Adobe Books- he catalogued every single one of the 20,000 books by color. The project is titled There is Nothing Wrong in This Whole Wide World. They were arranged by hand over a 10 hour period, and he enlisted the help of 16 volunteers. Such beautiful results, they transformed the bookshop overnight.
(Source: showslow, via bookshelfporn)
"MY grandfather had one question for the young man who asked for his daughter’s hand in marriage: “Do you like music?"