So, it’s been a while since I posted on my goals for living dangerously. I’m busy working on editing a couple manuscripts that I’ve had requests for and trying to keep up with real life.
Since we’ve chatted here on the blog, I’ve visited NYC for a writer’s convention where I ate, breathed, and talked books. Staying off site from the hotel, I got a taste of what living in the city really feels like. We ate at small neighborhood restaurants, walked
For a week, I was someone else. And I loved that person.
But a strange thing happened on the road to NYC. Actually, a friend and I were walking down
Illusions was a follow up book to Jonathon Livingstone Seagull by Richard Bach. And people LOVED JLS. I thought it was alright. But Illusions? My hardback copy was torn, stained, and all the worse for wear. I must have read that book twenty times. Maybe more. Then I moved and the book stayed behind.
One of the quotes from the Messiah’s Handbook in Illusions tells about how your friends will know you better the minute you meet than your acquaintances will know you in a life time. And that was the passage I found immediately upon slapping my three bucks down and opening the book to a random page.
Reading the quote out loud, I realized that the woman walking next to me was that kind of friend. Someone who knew me.
And I bless the all knowing IS for bringing her into my life.
(**If you don’t know what the ‘IS’ is, you need to read the book.)
And the other best thing about finding the book? Inside the front cover is an inscription from a man to his lover. Beautiful, haunting words that made me wonder, why did she let the book go? Did the relationship disintegrate causing the book to become a painful reminder of a feeling no long there?
That’s why I’m a writer. Because there’s always a story, you just have to find it.