Little slices of life

It’s obvious to anyone who knows me that I am a fan of the internet. I have met some very dear friends as a result of my on-line activities. Some I have been fortunate enough to meet and visit and formalise our already close relationships. Others are still “to-be-met” in real life. I see this as a “when” not an “if.” Blogging became an important part of my life about six or seven years ago. I “met” a small group of people who were working on the same project  - the x365 blogs, where we wrote, every day for a year, about a person in our lives.  The trick was to use only as many words as you had spent years on the planet. It was an introduction to creative writing for me, and a joy.  I only wish I could have maintained the discipline that a short word count gives you. I am however glad that I have maintained contact with the friends, the first bloggers, I met there. I was in awe of many of those bloggers I first met.

One whose writing has never ceased to impress me, to draw me in, to flirt with me, court and seduce me, has just published a book,Songbook for Haunted Boys and Girls. I am so pleased for him, and I’d like to say proud of him, but that sounds condescending, and how could I do that, when I can only dream of  getting near to his level of artistry. But why am I talking about his book on this blog, on my No Kidding blog? What does it have to do with us? Well, aside from the fact that Wayne has no kids (as far as I'm aware), he embodies the philosophy of soaking in the little moments, of living each day as a separate life, each day, each hour, each moment. The book comprises little slices of life, slices that are sweet, never bitter, sometimes sad, always moving, often funny, and sometimes risque. And for those of us who have known grief, for readers who might be struggling to find joy again, it's worth being reminded to take joy where we find it, and to read about the moments in life that are to be treasured, remembered even through their sadness, cherished for what they brought to us at the time and what they have made of us today. These moments stay with you - haunting in the very best sense - and always leave you wanting to know more. This is a blatant advertisement, yes, and I apologise for that. It's the first time I've done this on this blog, and I hadn't intended to do so.  But I started reading Wayne's book on my iPad (after downloading it yesterday as soon as it was available), and his writing touched me. Again. And I thought it might touch you too.

“This “testament made of trees” is a sort of memoir told in short prose pieces or prose poems: the joys and terrors of childhood, the quirkiness of our teenage years, growing old; old friendships, old love affairs, old grudges; food and drink, music, the sweetness of conversation. It’s also a portrait of a neighborhood—one of shops and restaurants and pubs and patios. Songbook for Haunted Boys and Girls is a song you put on and listen to over wine, a book of encouragement. It’s a sturdy and unpretentious affirmation of life, expressed simply and exquisitely.”

It has already garnered a number of five star reviews on Amazon. Go read them, because like this book, they’re delicious.