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There are days when so many ideas and words fill my head that they begin leaking out of my ears. On those days all I have to do is lay my head sideways on the keyboard, and by the time I look up there is a new short story or essay or blog post. It takes a while to clean the mess from between the keys (think pancake syrup oozed between toddler’s fingers), but it is a beautiful mess.

Then mornings like this one, and my mind is as empty as the public swimming pool in October. Continue reading “When There Are No New Ideas”

Yesterday, when I shared some things that Annie Dillard has on her website home page, I was mainly wondering about the role of social media in the life of an uber-successful author. I found it interesting that she so brazenly stated on her home page all of the things that she does not have time to do.

I did not, however, expect the voracity of responses in the comment thread: Continue reading “Do We Expect Our Favorite Authors to be Nice People?”

One of my favorite books on writing, “The Writing Life,” was written by Annie Dillard. This is what you will find on the home page of her website:

I’m sorry. I’ve never promoted myself or my books, but I used to give two public readings a year.

Now I can no longer travel, can’t meet with strangers, can’t sign books but will sign labels with SASE, can’t write by request, and can’t answer letters. I’ve got to read and concentrate. Why? Beats me. Continue reading “Complete Disengagement From Social Media: A Luxury?”

It was early in the morning. Very early. But the mid-August air hung heavy and my legs protested as I walked down to the track. There were about thirty of us, but no one said a word. Unless yawns count as words.

First day of soccer practice, junior year in college. We arrived at the track, and the coaches were waiting for us. It was the same first day of practice that I had experienced the previous two years. They didn’t bring soccer balls. No nets. No cleats.

Just bring your running shoes, they said. Continue reading “Anyone Else Out There Exhausted?”

I tell you, love your enemies. Help and give without expecting a return. You’ll never – I promise – regret it. Live out this God-created identity the way our Father lives toward us, generously and graciously, even when we’re at our worst.

Sitting in my living room, on my couch, in front of my laptop, I try to imagine going to sleep tonight worried that someone might very well sneak into the house and murder me. Or steal my children. Or burn the house down. This is, after all, what I imagine an enemy might do. Why am I thinking about these things?

Simple: I’m trying to figure out whether or not I actually have enemies. Continue reading “My Search For Enemies”

If there’s one constant at the fair, it’s noise. Country music scratches loudly from the speakers mounted on telephone poles; vendors shout out their offers (“Turrrrrkey Legs!”); the tractor pull roars as frustrated vehicles bog down; and people people people talk talk talk.

So when you encounter silence of any kind, it first strikes you as out of place. One of these things just doesn’t belong here.

* * * * *

I’d never seen such a quiet group of kids. Continue reading “The Perfect Example of Community”