In Which I Write to an Author Whose Writing I Love
“Your father is a mystery it takes your whole life to unravel.”
“I sometimes think the worst thing a young person can feel is when you can find no answer to the question of what you are supposed to do with this life you’ve been given.”
“The shoes of all grandparents are inestimable mysteries…”
“For balance I leaned back into the brown smells of his chest and there I left the world, not only because my feet were no longer on the ground but because when you’re a boy your grandfather’s chest has a peculiar and profound allure, like a spawn pool for salmon, wherein mysteries are resolved.”
These are just a few of my favorite quotes from the book I can’t stop thinking and talking about, This is Happiness. Some might say I’ve grown a bit obsessed with it—after listening to it on audio, I’ve proceeded to read back through it very slowly in hardback. Hopefully you can see why.
Perhaps I have loved it because the writing is beautiful, though I have read beautiful writing at many points in my life.
Perhaps I have loved it because the characters are indelibly marked in my mind, no longer fiction but people I once knew and now think back fondly on. But many such characters exist in my internal world. Owen Meany and Kincade Chance come to mind.
Perhaps I have loved it so much because it is a quiet piece of beauty in a world that worships the chaos, the conflict, the diabolical.
Whatever the case, I wrote to Niall Williams today to tell him how much I enjoyed his book. Whether my letter ever makes it to him over in Ireland, I suppose I may never know. But it felt important and right to send a note of my thanks, knowing as I do how quickly books come and go in the world, how quickly they can feel forgotten by those who toil long years creating them.
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Our newest podcast is up: Sarah Westfall and Being Human Together. Sarah talks with us about community--is digital community real? Is it good? Is there anything we can do to bring it to a more complete place?
She also talks about her long and winding (and ongoing) publishing journey and how a devastating loss opened her eyes to her own need for community. I hope you’ll listen in.