A couple of months ago, I went to hear Toni Morrison speak at the opening session of the American Library Association (ALA) annual conference. I’ve read a couple of books of hers and they were…intense. That is the word that best describes them. They made me cry, they made me laugh, they made me think and they made me just a little bit uncomfortable in my everyday existence. So the experience of hearing her speak was something I wasn’t going to miss.
And she didn’t disappoint.
There are people who are writers and there are people who are storytellers. It isn’t mutually exclusive, but you always know when you meet the latter. They are the ones who can hold a room in thrall when they speak. The ones who can talk about their trip to the drycleaner and you can’t help but get drawn in to what they say, become mesmerized by it and suddenly it is no longer a jaunt across town, but a grand adventure, as exciting and overwhelming as Jules Verne’s “Journey to the Center of the Earth.” And the best storytellers don’t just entertain you with their narratives; the best storytellers make the tale personal, not only to themselves, but to you, crafting an intimate experience.
Toni Morrison is one of those best storytellers. She spoke about how she and her sister practiced their reading and writing growing up. She crafted mental images of how they would form letters with sticks in the dirt and how their mother once caught them copying a word off of a billboard that was *ahem* not one that little girls should know. She reminded us of how mysterious and wonderful words were, and reminded us of that joy in exploring them. I caught myself thinking about my own childhood and how large a role books played in them.
I grew up overseas in the tiny island kingdom of Bahrain, off the coast of Saudi Arabia in the Arabian Gulf. It is a beautiful country and has grown and changed so much in these past few years. However, when I was a child I don’t recall there being very many libraries at all. At least, I don’t have any childhood memories of visiting one. But I do have vivid memories of visiting the bookstore. There was one that my family almost always went to. I remember it being small, with narrow aisles, but there were books everywhere, on shelves higher than I could reach, all the way to the ceiling. And they were on so many interesting things: animals, and oceans, ancient civilizations, mysteries and adventures and stories of so many different places and people! I recall being overwhelmed and so very excited by it. I thought, if I could have every book in the store, then I would know everything about the world. I know other kids would visit the toy store and beg for this toy or that toy. I have to admit, most of my begging took place in that bookstore. Just one more! I really NEED this book too. Please?
And then there were the National Geographic books. An aunt in the United States would send them to us. I have dim memories of barely being able to control myself when those boxes arrived. Boxes and boxes of books! I learned about animals and people of the African safari, the mystery King Tutankhamun’s tomb, how the ancient Incas and Aztecs lived and so much more. I believe that my current love of history (and obsession with the History Channel in all its iterations) comes from that early exposure. Of course, my fascination with books only became all the greater when in middle school my parents bought “the encyclopaedia set.” I don’t recall who created those 20+ volumes of books but I was in love. Thousands and thousands of articles, essays and entries on these amazing people and events. I couldn’t help myself. There were more than a few school assignments that ended up being hurriedly written in the wee hours of the morning because I had paused to look something up in “the encyclopaedia set” and one article mentioned something in another, and the second cross-referenced a third, and so I would go and read more and more until suddenly it was 2:00am and I still had a paper to write. But oh how I loved those volumes.
Books became a part of my personal culture and belief system. If you had a question, then a book is where you could find the answer; if you wanted to learn something, a book could teach you; and if you were just bored and wanted to discover something new and entertaining, then a book could take you there. Toni Morrison’s recollections reminded me of that belief; of that love. We get so caught up now in work and information and digital and electronic formats; television and computers and smartphones. And trust me, I’m no luddite – I love what technology has done to society and how much more accessible information has become. I have a 55 inch television, an iPhone, two gaming systems, and at least 3-4 computers in the house (granted, not all of them are working right now). But we get caught up in the need for the information, for what the words mean that sometimes, we forget how much fun the words can be.
Toni Morrison’s ALA speech made us laugh; it made us gasp; it entertained and educated; but most importantly, Toni Morrison reminded us that we can go back to that childhood joy we all discovered in books. With a little nudge we can be reminded (and SHOULD be reminded) that stories and books hold that creative spark of both intimacy and wonder, encompassing the gamut of human experience that unites us all.
Thank you Toni Morrison.
In early January I remember hearing someone say it was going to be a “fast” year. It was around the 8th and her exclamation was regarding the eye-blink between the New Year and then.
She was so right. I had a whole list of resolutions ready in January to make 2010 “the best year ever.” Blink. It’s March. Blink. It’s June, halfway through the year. Blink. We’re already almost done with the first week of August. I want my year back! At least a couple of blinks worth.
So what does this mean for August and beyond? I’m not sure, certainly some soul-searching and reconsideration of how I spend my time. I’d always believed in things like time management but I’m realizing that more than how I fill my time, it is the choices I make that are more important. I’m learning that perhaps the common complaint people have about “not enough time” and “balance” is really about priorities.
This last week has been trip after trip. First, was three days in Los Angeles for the annual American Association of Museum conference and now I’m at Balticon 44.
I should write more about all the exciting things from both events but it is 4am and I am rapidly running out of steam. Hopefully I can get more caught up tomorrow/today.
Well, the first quarter of 2010 is over. I’m feeling both good and bad about it. Good because as far as work is concerned I’m doing pretty good. I’m meeting my resolutions for the year. There’s still a part of me that says “You’re not doing enough. You need to do more,” but I’ve been relatively successful at stifling it. I do hope though to pick up the pace for the second quarter. The end of March/early April are starting to feel a bit like 2009 and I don’t want to get bogged down.
On the writing front, things have ground to a complete halt. I’m not sure why, but I am JUST.NOT.MOTIVATED. to do anything. A novel, a screenplay, a short story, a poem…heck even just a few lines jotted down. On this front, it feels very like 2009 which was a terrible year on the creative front. I try to track not only when i write, but also when the ideas first come to me and according to my journals it would seem that most of my work came from late 2007, early 2008. So right now I’m struggling with trying to find out the “why” and work myself back into things. It was one of my resolutions for 2010 and I’m loathe to let it go. I guess this falls under the put-up-or-shut-up mentality.
I’ve got a few other gripes and pat-on-the-back items but for right now, I’m just keeping an eye on these two things – work and writing and hoping to keep moving forward. I don’t want 2010 to be more of the same…
PS Of course adding in the fact we’re planning for a November wedding, 2010 does have its distinct differences.
