Favorite Books of 2016

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Disclaimer: I’m not a critic (though if anyone is looking for a willing reviewer, I’m raising my hand) but I love books and I read some really fantastic writing this year.

I did not get to every book I wanted to read this year. I have some highly recommended books I’ll start over Christmas (more on those later) but listed below are the favorites of the ones I did read this year. I’ve also included a section on books I didn’t love, love, love, but maybe you will. Just because a book wasn’t for me doesn’t mean it isn’t for you.When we have a spare chunk of time or brainpower, it can be overwhelming to narrow down the choices of books. My hope is you can jump off from the recommendations here and find something you will love. Books are investments of time. We all want to invest well.

Here are my favorite reads of 2016:

Fiction

Americanah – I’ve said lots of words about my love for this book. Not just a favorite of 2016, but a favorite of all time
The Wonder – I don’t want to say too much about this other than it is so compelling and worth every second of time.

Another Brooklyn – Jacqueline Woodson. Gah. I just can’t get over anything she writes. This book beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

Honorable mention: Last Ride to Graceland – Like a road trip through my childhood. If you are from the south, this book will ring lots of bells.

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Gritty and Magical – For mom’s big week

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This is a big week for my family.

My parents are two homebodies. But mom has a bit of wanderlust about her. She’s always dreamed pretty big but never allowed herself the budget or the time to satisfy her curiosity.

Until this week.

Today mom and her best friend are traveling to New York City. It’s the first time for my mom and only one of a handful of times for her friend. They picked a beautiful time. The tress in Central Park are at their fall finest. Broadway just started a new season. I’ve read the Rockefeller tree is in place and though the Christmas bustle isn’t quite in full effect, I’m a bit jealous.

New York has become one of my favorite places. I love places that swallow you whole. I love places I can’t out-dream. Nothing can ever be big enough in New York and something about that spurs me on to a God that is bigger than any of us could fathom.

It’s all very gritty and magical. There are not many places that are both.

Mom is worried about the amount of walking. She’s worried about public bathrooms and catching the plague from the handrails down to the subway. She’s worried about a million things.

She’s excited about Time Square and Broadway. She’s excited about the city tour on those double decker buses. She wants to buy something fake – anything – in China Town.

I’m excited for her. For the woman who has given my brother and I not just what we needed but what we wanted too. We learned early on to stop mentioning shoes or watches or clothes we were eyeing as somehow they would end up in our hands, even if it cost mom a great deal. If I could gather all the money and things she gave us over the years instead of doing something for herself, it would equal hundreds of trips to New York.

We will start with this trip. Today.

Mom, I’m not an expert on the city, but here is what I hope for you:

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Forty-two Years

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That’s my dad. The little one is me. This is shortly after Tommy changed his name to dad. This is shortly after marriage and Vietnam and a host of other living. My parents settled into a little house in West Columbia, I was born, my brother five years later. Dad went to work as an electrician and for forty years has never stopped.

It’s been forty-two years of heavy steel-toed boots. Forty-two years of middle of the night phone calls, emergency repairs, of swing shifts and blue uniforms. Forty-two years of physical demands, scaling staircases, standing for countless hours, intricate work with his hands.

It’s been forty-two years of endless hours – early, early mornings, sometimes late evenings as the work required. My brother and I marked the days of the week by dad’s presence in the morning. It was the weekend or a holiday when we woke up, stumbled into the den and saw dad in his Lazy Boy watching the morning news. Every other day, he packed a small Coleman cooler with lunch, snacks, unread parts of the paper and would go out into the morning dark to put in the very definition of an honest day’s work, the house still faint with the smell of his coffee.

It’s been forty-two years of self-sacrifice. Dad drove an old rust-colored Ford truck that embarrassed the heck out of my snooty middle school self but served our family well. Our entire childhood, that truck rumbled from dad’s work to our schools. Most days dad got off of work early enough to pick us up, that faithful truck waiting in the pick up line with scores of SUVs and sedans. Dad drove the old truck into the ground so that we could have the nicer, newer cars paid for with hours of his work. If he ever pined after another car, we never knew. He was content with that truck, content to let us dream, content to let us have the finer things.

It’s been forty-two years of homework and dinner duty. After standing for hours on end, he stood at the stove and sink, of algebra, spelling test, and state capitals. He never complained. I cannot remember a single complaint.

Dad retires today, after forty-two years. He says his body just can’t sustain the grind and we can see that. His knees trouble him, hands ache, and he’s kept a heating pad close for his back for years. He has spent himself for us. He has given away nearly everything he has, down to his very joints. The day dad signed the retirement paperwork, he texted me, “Been blessed for a long time with a good job to support the family.”

Dad, here’s to rest. Here’s to healthy knees, hands and back. Here’s being compelled to doing absolutely nothing, should you choose. Or if you do choose to take up a hobby or another job, may it be something you love. Here’s to seeing things you’ve never seen and doing things you’ve never done.

Thank you, dad. I will never know anyone who has worked as hard as you have on behalf of their family. You cast a tall shadow and a long legacy. You’ve loved us well.

And we love you.

The Cruelest Month

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The fall JCrew catalog is in the trash.

It’s too beautiful and it’s hard to be aspirational now. There doesn’t seem to be enough space in my heart these days to know what I’m missing. In the trash it goes.

October is my least favorite month. Most of my high summer talk is less a love of the sun and more of a fear of fall. The hardest parts of life seem to fall in the month of October and for that reason alone I can’t love it. There is too much residue. It’s dusty and hard.

And yet here we are. October is here.

I’m moving this month. I moved two years ago in October. I move five years ago in October. I moved eight years ago in October.

Last year I started a temporary job in October with the hopes of expansion to a full-time position by the turn of the year. Three weeks in much of the workforce was laid off and for me, the writing placed on the wall. Another temporary position ends this month too.

I have friends struggling with any number of things and though they are brave and full of faith, there are tears at times. There are moments it all seems too much.

I have been unemployed now for a year and a half. Extended unemployment is a lot of things, one of the more difficult being the gradual slipping away of what I once knew, like watching the leaves fall off a tree one by one. There is no mystery of how this will end. I’ll be pretty barren for a while. Barren bank account, barren house. Today I regret turning down job opportunities that seemed less than the best. Today those decisions seem haughty. Had I said yes, maybe October would sting a little less.

Several months ago I scheduled a haircut. I did the math and just could not make my bank account numbers work to afford it. I picked up my phone to cancel and wanted with all the world to tell her I was sick and couldn’t come in. But instead, I was honest. I told her the days had been tight and I couldn’t swing it but I would reschedule for a later date and asked her to pray I would get over the vanity of a few gray hairs. She told me to come, the haircut was on her, and what did I want from Chick Fil A? Breakfast would be waiting when I got there. I doubled over in tears at her kindness.

I made a decision that day. I decided regardless of how hard it seemed, regardless of how much I wanted to hide, I would show up and tell the truth. I would not try to be too strong or proud. I would raise my hand and admit I needed help. I decided the burden of holding it together hurt way more than the temporary sting of humility.

Here is the truth as I know it today: I am in my thirties, unmarried, childless, homeless and unemployed. I need to pack and move in the next few weeks and nothing rattles my sense of stability like moving. I’ve cried a lot. I need help because as it turns out, I cannot pick up a couch by myself, but I hate asking for help because help is all I’ve needed in the past year. I don’t know how I’m going to pay for a U-haul or storage unit. Moving is hard. Unemployment is hard.

These things are also true: The industrious American dream is not the boss of me. My life may look backward and bleak, but I know with all that’s in me I followed Jesus right into the dusty and hard and that’s ok because Jesus walked straight into the hard too. Endurance and patience are holy. People are kind and I don’t deserve an ounce of it.

The most true of all, I have hope.

I want to believe that if I ask for bread I will not be given a stone. My faith is weak some days, especially when it feels as if I am carrying a load of rocks. For this day, maybe just this minute, I’m choosing to believe these are stones of a story. This October I’ll kneel down in the mud and build an Ebenezer out of these rocks. For this far you have brought me.

Coffee, blankets, fires, and books

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It is no secret I’m a fan of summer.

Fall is ok, I guess.

I love football. I’m ok with the somewhat cooler temperatures. I do love a good pair of boots. My plan is to the make the most of the season with loads of coffee and blankets, maybe a fire or two and a good stack of books.

Here are the books I’m looking forward to this fall:

Underground Railroad – The whole world seems to be talking about this storyline. Not a book I would normally read – it’s fantastical and weird – but that’s the beauty of books, right?

Before the Fall – I didn’t love the whole “Gone Girl” “Girl on a Train” book phase. But I do love a good thriller, minus the whole girl-gone-out of her mind-crazy-on-a-train thing. This seems to fit the bill.

Everyone Brave is Forgiven – I’m a sucker for a European World War II story. I’ve started this book and really like it so far.

My Name is Lucy Barton – This book has been on hold on our library’s Overdrive forever. Based on the popularity and on the recommendation of a few trusted friends, it seems this one will be a great read.

Another Brooklyn – Gah, I love Jacqueline Woodson. Her book Brown Girl Dreaming – a memoir of Woodson’s childhood in Greenville and Brooklyn – is unlike any other story I’ve read. Another Brooklyn is a fictional account of an adolescent girl in the NYC borough.

The Broken Way – Please, please take a look at Ann Voskamp’s blog. Her writing is simply beautiful and full of truth. Her new book releases on October 25.

I’m currently finishing two books – Homegoing and A Gentleman in Moscow . So far I would recommend them both.

And I can’t close out this post without mentioning Present Over Perfect, Shauna Niquist’s new book. If I would write a book describing the past year for me, it’s this one – though I could not nearly touch her writing talent. If life has gotten away from you a bit, if a frantic pace is eating you alive, please read this one.

Happy pumpkins, leaves, coffee, sweaters, apples, boots, and books! Happy Fall friends.

Summer Reading Recap – The good and not so good

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Today we wave goodbye to summer.

This month, Starbucks officially moves on to fall and soon we will grow a little weary of the word “pumpkin.” We will watch football and roast marshmallows. We will pull out our boots and flannels.

But these are the last days to squeeze the last little bit of goodness out of pool parties, boat rides, and longer days.

Did you read any great books this summer? Did you squeeze in a few reads between Memorial Day and Labor Day? In May, summer reading lists are EVERYWHERE, but in September, I wonder if we actually liked anything we read?

So here’s what I read this summer, some good and some not-for-me. What’s not for me may be for you, so no hardline judgement here. Just a few humble opinions. Most of us have stacks of books we will get to eventually. If any of these books are queued up on your nightstand or Kindle, here’s a little help to narrow the field.

Eligible – A chick-lit adaptation of Pride and Prejudice, there isn’t much to hide in this plot. If you know the story of Eliza Bennet and Fitzwilliam Darcy at all, this modern day telling will lack the element of surprise. It was entertaining and I blazed through the book

Sweet Bitter – I wanted to like this book, but it wasn’t for me. Highly touted, highly publicized, Sweet Bitter is a behind-the-scene look at the high-end restaurant industry and the peeled back layers where not particularly pretty. I cringed through most of it. The seediness of the industry seemed unnecessarily over glorified. Stephanie Danler writes well, but this wasn’t a story I particularly cared to read no matter how well crafted.

Essentialism – Many, many people have read and benefited from this book and rightfully so. This is less of a “how to do/have less”, Marie Kondo-esq book and more heart-behind. If you find yourself overly booked/stressed/worked this book will be helpful and well worth the time.

My Brilliant Friend – This is the first novel in the four book, extremely popular Neapolitan Series. I can see why so many people love these books. The characters are not perfect, but you pull for them. You feel for them. The two girls at the center of the books are completely different from one another and their dynamic works. There is a grittiness to the book. Life isn’t perfect, but real and the two girls are experiencing everything together. This book was translated from Italian to English and takes a while to get used to how the author writes, but if you can stick with it, it is a great read.

The Girls – The story of the girls of Charles Mason’s compound and the events leading up to the Sharon Tate murder, this book wasn’t as disturbing or scary as I initially thought. The Mason character does not feature heavily as the book centers mostly around the females in his compound. But there are a few disturbing scenes I scanned over. If you approach this book as a character study with interesting pictures of the people involved, this book will be a good read. If you need a major plot twist or the fictional outcome to be different from the true events, this book may be disappointing.

The High Mountains of Portugal – This is latest book from Life of Pi author Yan Martel and is just as quirky and weird. Animals and religious themes feature heavily as in Life of Pi. The characters are strange and the story is wandering. In the middle of these epic journey stories, Martel writes profound, beautiful sentences that stay in your mind for days. If you liked Life of Pi, you will like The High Mountains of Portugal. But if you have a hard time suspending reality and need a more straight forward story, this might not be to your taste.

I hope you found some good stories this summer. I hope you got a little lost in a book or two. If you read anything you loved, I would love to hear about it.

Next week, I’ll post what books I can’t wait to read this fall.

Plane, Train, Automobile, Pool Companion – Podcasts

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I’ve fallen in the podcast hole.

Scratch that, I’ve jumped in the podcast pool.

With a bit of a commute most days, podcasts have been my constant companion. So, if you have an upcoming trip this summer with a loaded Kindle in tow but reading in the car makes you queasy or you’ve watched every in flight movie, maybe a really great podcast will be a good option.

There has been a bit of a podcast resurgence in the past year with thousands and thousands of episodes offered up weekly. To help you wade through the pool, here are some of my favorites.

Couple of quick notes. I subscribe – new episodes automatically download to my phone – to only a handful of podcasts. I’m choosy with the rest. There are two lists below – subscribed and a check in list (Pop in to see if I’m interested in any of the new episodes). For the check in list, I’ve listed my favorite episodes.

The links provided will take you to the website for the podcast, but I find it easiest and best to search your favorite podcast app and scroll through the episodes.

Subscribed:

This American Life – The King. They have been telling stories for the longest and do it hella well. Most episodes are a little on the long side, but well worth it.

Embedded – Typically, NPR releases all radio produced content in podcast form. Embedded is one of a handful of podcast only shows from the station. It is newest edition and one of the most in depth.

The Big Boo Cast – Ladies, this one is a little more for you. These two hosts, Melanie Shankle and Sophie Hudson have been bloggers for years and each have a few books under their belts. They spit sports talk like they are on AM radio, but can also chat about the Nordstrom sale and the best brand of mascara. Bonus, they are hilarious. They don’t post often, but each one is well worth the time.

The Splendid Table – If I had to pick a favorite in this whole list, it would be the Splendid Table. This lands squarely in the foodie realm, but the host Lynn Rosetto Kasper is SO incredible good, you can’t help but wish she was your next door neighbor and best friend. If you can binge on Master Chef, Chef’s Table, Chopped and the like, you will love this.

The West Wing Weekly – My love for The West Wing is DEEP. Hrishikesh Hirway along with Joshua Molina, who played Will Bailey on the show, hosts this podcast which walks through one episode per week. With the show planted on Netflix, a whole new generation of people are discovering the brilliance of writer Aaron Sorkin. If you are a West Wing fan, you will love this podcast. Guests on the podcast includes former writers, consultants, and stars of the show.

Check in on these often:

Reply All – Miss Serial Season 1? This will tide you over. The podcast as a whole is about the internet, but four episodes are special. “On the Inside” follows blogger Paul Modrowski, in prison for a murder he claims he did not commit. The Reply All team tracks down Paul’s blog which is consistently updated despite his lack of internet access in prison. Gradually, the team uncovers Paul’s crime and conviction story. And it is incredible.

Favorite episodes: On the Inside Parts 1-4

Modern Love – I’ve cried a few tears over this one. These stories, submitted by NY Times readers, are heartbreaking, beautiful, brutal and joyful.
Favorite episodes: A Heart Outrun, A Faithful Leap

Fresh Air – Another NPR staple. This show airs every day so there are LOTS of episodes. The host Terry Gross can pull things out of her guests like no one else.
Favorite episodes: Nora Ephron’s Son Tells Her Story, Questlove Thompson Live On Stage, Black-ish Creator Kenya Burris

The Hidden Brain – Kind of science-y, kinda sociology, kinda psychology. The episodes are little 20 minute pops that are easy to understand.
Favorite episodes: Originals, Boredom, Stroke of Genius,

The NYPL Podcast –  If you’ve ever been to New York City, you have more than likely walked past the New York Public Library with it’s giant stone lions and big staircase. The Library frequently holds live conversations/interviews with authors. Don’t sleep on this one. If you just take a look at the favorites listed below, you know they aren’t playing around. Jay Z? Come on, that’s awesome.
Favorite episodes: Neil Gaiman on Fairy Tales, Jay Z, Damien Echols on Hope and Death Row, Sarah Lewis on Failure, Ann Patchett and Elizabeth Gilbert

Gravy – Short bursts of southern story telling. A lot about food.
Favorites episodes: Wanting the Bourbon You Can’t Have, Bill Smith Turns Up the Volume, A Charleston Feast for Reconciliation

TED Radio Hour – Quickly becoming a classic. This podcast takes the best parts of TED Talks on a particular subject, reinterviews the speaker, and goes a little deeper on the topic at hand. It’s a great way to get the best parts of TED Talks without burning through hours yourself.
Favorite episodes: Making Mistakes, What is Beauty, Unstoppable Learning, Framing the Story, Overcoming, Disruptive Leadership, Brand Over Brain

The Liturgist Podcast – I’ve only listened to one episode of this podcast and it was a doosey. The episode was challenging in a million ways. A million ways. I don’t agree with everything these guys talk through, but I can’t stop thinking about it.
Favorite episode: Black and White: Racism in American

Happy listening, friends! And if you love any of these episodes, let me know!

Hustle Hard. Stay Sane.

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In high school I had one class with Japheth Light, Marine Science. Japheth took the class because he’d aced every other science class our school offered. I took the class because I barely understood any science class our school offered. Japheth and I had in school together for quite some time and it was widely known he was way smarter than the rest of us. Point proven in Marine Science.

I’m a read-every-word-in-the-textbook, take-every-note girl.
Japheth doodled.

I did pretty well in the class.
Japheth did much better.

Years after graduating – Japheth valedictorian, me the muddy middle – I know this to be true, some people are naturally bright, others of us have to work $%#@&^%$#@ing hard.


Undoubtedly, gifted people put in the hours; every virtuoso has to practice and study. But we know them. The talented people with all the capacity as world class thinkers and abnormally huge brains.

The answers magically pop in their heads.

Their lives move at brilliant speed.
Their feet are on the desk and chairs leaned back.
Every conversation is straight out of an Aaron Sorkin script.

They best us in wit and wiles.

If this describes you, respectfully, stop reading. I’m glad you are here. Please come back another time and teach me how to speak like C.J Cregg.

The rest of us remain. Those who are never the smartest in the room.

We’ve watched the midnight oil burn and the sun rise.

We’ve had dirty hair, unshaven legs (or faces) and skipped showers.
Every class attended.
No practice missed.
Nothing – nothing – has ever come naturally.

But nothing has ever been taken for granted.


College, as it often does for everyone who chooses to go that route, stretched me a million ways. In those years my wheels were spinning twice as hard as anyone else. I worked, worked, worked, and worked some more. Over time a hustle developed that pushed me to the edge and sadly over a few times. That hustle has been both benign and malignant. It has served me well and poorly.

After years of stress, anxiety, manic and frantic, I’ve learned this – hard workers do not have to drive themselves mad. It is possible to bust our tails and be decent, healthy people. We can hustle hard and stay sane.

I’ve crashed and burned more times that I can count, but each time little pieces of how to work smarter and be healthier became clear. These bits have helped along the way. Maybe they can help you too.

Nothing is wrong – Just because you have to work a little harder, study a little longer, put in a few extra hours, does not make you a misshapen human. You are not dumb. Your brain is not broken. Do not get down on yourself.

Do a motive checkWHY are you working hard? What is driving you? If we are not careful, motives can be tinged with pride and will perhaps lead us to some pretty shady places. Proving ourselves is a terrible reason to work hard. It’s the stuff of revenge movie plots, and will send a person around the bend quickly.  If we are building the house with a bunch of pride and selfishness, a good strong wind will level us. Check for foundation cracks often.

Know when to stop – Learn how you work and what is a good pace for you. Take the time to learn just how much you have to push yourself, then stop just short of your limit. Know when to declare you’ve done all you can do for the day. Turn off the lights, close the book/computer/phone. Be okay with stopping for a while.

Drink water, eat green things, move your body, go to bed – Man cannot live on Red Bull and Little Debbies. You want to be in this for a good long run of years, right? Take care of yourself. Live to work hard another day.

There are no Jones’– You are not keeping up with anyone. Resist the urge to compare yourself with others. If you are chasing down someone else, you are in the wrong race.

Intentionally rest – Take a break. Make up your mind NOT to work for a day or two. The world will not stop spinning if we take some time to rest. If you don’t take a day off, YOU will be the only thing that stops spinning. Go have fun. Take a nap. Eat some ice cream. Do anything but the work at hand.


These are the months of transition – graduation from high school or college, first jobs or internships – and these late-teen, early-adult experiences do a lot to usher us into how we approach work. This is the time marked by deep end job assignments, professors and bosses who require the world, needling, and trying and failing and succeeding. Work ethic ground zero.

For those of you just dipping your toes into this great adventure, develop a hustle, but nurture it too. If you have been busting it for a while, sanity is just a few brave choices away. Choose a life of faith, humility, determination, endurance, of someone living for something other than themselves.

So work on, my friends. Hustle hard to honor the work in front of you, your employers, future employers, God and all he has given you. But please take care. All the people who love you want you around for a really long time. We want you to live long enough to not only to see you do beautiful things, but to enjoy them too.

It’s the Most Wonderful Time – 2016 Summer Reading

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I’ve been wading through dead leaves and pumpkins to yell this.

HAPPY SUMMER!

Welcome swimming pools, lemonade (thank you Beyonce), fireflies, crickets, sunburn, swimsuits, chargrilled meat, flip flops, fresh cut grass.

It’s the most wonderful time of the year.

Is it true we all want to read a little more in the summer? I think so. We have a little space to breath. We can give some hours to a good book.

There are TONS of summer reading guides floating around out there. In fact, here are a few of my favorites:

NY Times

Can I add to the conversation? Below are a few of my recent favorites and a few I haven’t read but are planning on tackling this summer.

Read and Recommended:

Americanah – It is hard not to fall in love with the characters in Americanah. The story is so engaging and the characters are so normal, but not at all. It’s a little bit of a longer read, but well worth it. The ending was a bit complicated and not what I wanted or expected, but this book is my favorite of the year so far.

Brown Girl Dreaming – Neck and neck with Americanah for the best book I’ve read in a while. Set in both Greenville, SC and New York City, this is a genre bending book in a million ways. It is a YA memoir written in free verse. Sounds crazy, I know. But please, please put this one on your list. It is really, really, really that good.

Jacqueline Woodson has a new book coming out this summer. I will for sure, for sure, be reading this one.

Eligible – This modern retelling of Pride and Prejudice is schmaltzy, predictable and candy sweet, but I could not put it down. It is the exact picture of a beach read.

When Breath Becomes Air – Don’t let the description of this book scare you. It’s not long and not sad. It is quite hopeful and extremely well written. The epilogue is possibly the most moving chapter I’ve read in a while.

A Moveable Feast – For those who want to tackle a classic this summer. This book was published after Hemingway’s death and can read a little pieced together. Still, it is a beautiful picture of his ex-pat life in Paris. He says so much with so little words. It’s a marvel, really.

On My List:

My Brilliant Friend, The Story of a New Name, Those Who Leave and Those Who Stay, The Story of the Lost Child – I’ve seen these books on so many lists! I really want to make it through this series over the summer.

The Lake House – Kate Morton is known for her plot twists. She always has something unexpected in each book. I’m not incredibly familiar with her work but I’m ready to get into this one in the next few months.

Essentialism – There are books we all NEED to read and this is one for me.

The Things They Carried – I’ve owned a copy of this book for a while. It has become a classic in a million ways. I’m a daughter of a Vietnam veteran and this book has been hard for me to pick up, but I want to take a deep breath, crack the book and go.

A quick note for friends with e-readers. Most local libraries have a program that allows you to check out books on your device. Instead of making a trip to the library, you can check out books through your computer straight to your Kindle or other device. LIFE CHANGING.

So, Happy Summer, my friends. Happy Reading!

Who Tells Your Story?

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Recently I watched a documentary about the late writer and director Nora Ephron called Everything is Copy, . Ephron is the genius behind the movies Sleepless in Seattle, Julia and Julia and a host of other essays and books. A good chunk of Everything is Copy explores the career Ephron made from taking material in her own life and making it fodder for her writing.

There is a line of dialogue in the movie I can’t quite shake it. Ephron refers back to her childhood and a phrase her mother would often invoke:

“You’d come home with something you thought was the tragedy of your life – someone wouldn’t ask you to dance, the hem fell out of your skirt – and she would say, ‘Everything is copy,’ What I now have come to believe my mother meant is this: If you slip on a banana peel, people laugh at you. But when you tell someone you slipped on a banana peel, it’s your laugh.”

We are, as a whole these days, an oversharing, tad bit indulgent society. Should we chose to, we have ample outlets to speak whatever we wish – good, bad and ugly. Social media is the exact essence of “everything is copy.” We experience it and we share it. We flip the story and make it ours. Immediately.

The truth is I’ve tiptoed through life being terrified of slipping on a banana peel or admitting that I’ve done my fair share of falling. Often the most regrettable moments of my life have not been the terrible mistakes I’ve made, but rather the unwillingness to be honest with the folks around me. The facade, the mask, the game compounds the regret all the more. I often don’t feel bad for slipping, falling, failing. I simply regret not speaking up about it.

But why? Why in the world would we want to lay our stories bare? There are a million good reasons, too many to list here. But my favorite lately is this:

Like the rest of the world, I am currently obsessed with the musical Hamilton. My giant prayer these days? Impossible to-get-tickets to see the current cast on broadway. It’s a bit embarrassing how often I pray over these tickets, but in an essay on honesty this feels like an appropriate confession.

I can’t get enough of the backstory. Lin-Manuel Miranda, author and star of the musical, breezed through an airport bookstore looking for something to read on a flight. He found the 800 plus page, at times salacious, biography Alexander Hamilton. In addition to being the face on the $10 bill and the first Treasury Secretary, Hamilton was an island immigrant living in New York City. This part of Hamilton’s story proved to be a mirror. This immigrant sliver made Hamilton unexpectedly connected with so many others in our country with a similar sliver including Miranda, a Puerto Rican growing up in New York City.

In one honest story telling, another saw enough of themselves to get to work.

This can be true of us too. Maybe in opening up our lives, someone can take a slice, see themselves, and feel less alone or afraid. Maybe this sets off a deeper faith, a newfound courage, a squirreled away talent, a piece of art, whatever. Long creaky life wheels are set in motion. The next domino will fall and we will all keep moving.

In Everything Is Copy, Ephron goes on to say that telling her own story moved her from being a victim to be a hero. I’ve never wanted to be the story hero. This is not about glory or fame. I hope we are not honest about our lives so that we can flip the script and come out on top. It is about taking our lives and making sure what happens to us, because of us, in spite of us is not in vain. This is stewardship. Much like we manage our time and money, this is stewarding our resource of experience. It is saying, “This is me. I’m not perfect. Life has been good and life has been bad. Maybe you can identify too?” We simply cannot know what little parts of our life will compel, open up, inspire or break someone else. I am not the hero of my story, but I am also not the victim either. I am a narrator, letting all parts be told through me.

There are many experiences that need to shelved for a later, matured, distanced, telling. But in the right time and place, let’s open up our mouths or type with our fingers. Let’s be honest with a friend or even a stranger. Let’s be brave and open.

Hamilton ends with a song entitled Who Lives, Who Dies, Who Tells Your Story? It is a haunting piece that flies a bit in the face of how a lot of musical theater ends with big, bombastic numbers. But the question is great: who will tell your story? Maybe a kid, grandkid, biographer or stranger. There is a simpler answer, really.

If you are willing, you will.