Monday, January 5, 2009

Beginnings

One of my favorite things is the beginning of a road trip. Get up in the dark, make coffee, double check the list, the bite of morning in the air, the little thrill of knowing this day is different. In a way, starting this blog is like starting a road trip. Of course there are obvious differences, but the biggest one, I think, is not knowing the destination. As the heading says, this blog is a place to record random thoughts about writing, reading, books, and the business of books. "Life in general" covers everything else.

This is my first blog, I am writing my first book, I am learning about the business of books. All new beginnings.

3 comments:

  1. Welcome to the Wide World of Blogging!!

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  2. Very neat! Looking forward to more posts!

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  3. Having been to your kitchen, on many occastions, when the coffee is brewing, I, too, felt the anticipation of the journey. I have always admired your passion for books. The worlds they have allowed you to venture. Your willingness to share your journeys with those of us that couldn't, or wouldn't, find time in our busy schedules to follow said path. You inspired me to make time to read. To let my mind accept the openings that authors created for us. To reach out to those wonderful doors, valley's, rivers, hearts, and souls and follow the path before us. If not for the adventure, then just for the journey.
    I have spent years seeking the places I read about in books. At times I could feel the presence of the prisoners in the dungeons of a Castle in Shimabara where the Shogun made a failed attempt at expelling the missionaries from southern Japan. Imagined how, some 400 years earlier, the Portugese traders delt with the brutal sun and humidity in Malaysia while they defended Ft. Malacca as I stood in the courtyard between the fort and the sea. The stories came to life. They enriched my life.

    They are not mere books. The destination is not the quest. The journey is the quest. With the smell of the coffee waffing from the kitchen you reach for that, long unread, book. You feel the texture of it's cover, the weight of it's soul and it's distinct aroma. You sip your coffee and appreciate the labors of someone half a world away for the brew. Turning on your favorite lamp you are ready. You reach for it's door, ah, the opening. You are not sure where the opening will take you. Will it provide knowledge, escape, intreague, warmth, drama, fear, or happiness? It does not matter, it is the journey that it is the essence of it's soul.
    From Zen, Tagatha "He who has traveled the path (books), returned from isness, thusness, the fully completed one."

    Love ya Sis,
    Dan

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