Talking to Strangers

You know that old rule about never talking to strangers? I never outgrew it.

Problem is, if you never talk to a stranger, you'll never make new friends.

Now, the American Christian Fiction Writers conference is barely more than two weeks away. About 500 people are attending the thing, including me.

Do you know when I last had the opportunity to meet that many new people? Me either. Probably at a Society of Professional Journalists convention in my college days, back when I was accustomed to pretending to be a social butterfly. I just put on the professional journalist mask, came up with dark humor, donned a cynical edge and blended right in. Except I was sober. A marked contrast to most of my fellow student journalists.

The thing is, meeting new people doesn't come naturally for me. For the most part, conventions are considered social occasions, and besides, people are there, so I avoid them. My favorite line from the TV show "Monk"? He's standing in a small room with several people. He stops the conversation, points to several people and says, "You, you and you. You're breathing my air." I can relate.

Then again, I have about six people I consider close friends, and I don't live in the same state as any of them, so maybe I just need to get over myself.

Consider yourselves my life coaches. Tell me how you start conversations with strangers. I'm guessing, "Hi, I'm Melanie and I'm afraid of people" isn't the best intro.

Death

Hah! Now that I have your attention ...

I recently read "Life is a Gift: Inspiration from the Soon Departed." Since those who know me know this isn't exactly the kind of happy fun read I'd pick up at the bookstore, you're right. I read it to review it. You can find the review at http://idealinhope.com/bookreviews/nonfiction.html

The authors interviewed 104 people in hospice. None of them lived to see the book published. But the result wasn't nearly as depressing as I expected, and it lead to some Deep Thoughts, not really the old SNL Jack Handy sarcastic kind, but sincere deep thoughts.

Thought number one: In the chapter on regrets, most people said they had few. Even two people who had struggled with alcoholism said they wouldn't change the fact that they were an alcoholic, for it was from alcoholism and AA that they discovered God.

I don't know about you, but there are parts of my past I would love to rewrite. I don't dwell on them or live in regret, but if someone asked, "Would you change it?" The only honest answer is Yes. All of the things I would change involve other people, and it's not fair to drag their lives onto the World Wide Web without their permission, but I can say I think they'd agree. Saying no sounds like the correct Christian answer. I know everything I've experienced has shaped who I am today, but there are aspects of me I'd gladly surrender to have the ability to trust back.

Thought number two: OK, this one's kind of Jack Handyish, but it's genuine. They asked a five-year-old named Maddie, "If there was a book called Maddie's Life, what kind of book would it be?" Her answer, a coloring book.

If your life were a coloring book, what would the pictures be? Would everything be colored inside the lines? Would the colors be those that occur in nature? Would it look more like Sesame Street or The Simpsons? Would there be words, or pictures only? Would there be puzzles in it, like maybe a maze or two?

You share your coloring book, and maybe I'll share mine.

30,000 books

I'm a bit of a Jeopardy! addict, and today's episode made me envious. It had nothing to do with the actual competition, but with the contestant interview portion of the show. The returning champion revealed that there were more than 30,000 books in her household when she was growing up. You read that right, 30,0000, at one time.

Instead of having nightmarish images of how crowded the house must have been, I'm imagining a lovely library with floor-to-ceiling shelves and all the time in the world to read.

Technically, I know I don't need three or four bookshelves filled with books. But emotionally, I can't let them go. I'm not a book borrower. No libraries for me. I have to own them. I'm not one of those "careful" book owners, either. I think dog ears are a sign that a book is well loved and well read. I sometimes underline or highlight favorite passages. And I read over and over again, so a battered cover isn't uncommon.

My sister surrendered her largest bookshelf during her move, so I've been rearranging some of my books in their new home and finding several I want to read again. "The Northbury Papers," of all things, caught my eye, as did some early Francine Rivers. I'm reminded again that I need to be more careful about loaning books. I have two copies of "The Last Sin-Eater." I'd loaned it and had to read it again before I got it back. I once had two complete sets of  The Mark of the Lion series because someone returned them after having them for years. I finally gave the second set away.

The oldest book on that particular shelf is a copy of "The One I Knew Best Of All," or something like that, from 1891. It's a first edition by Frances Hodgson Burnett, of "The Secret Garden" fame, only not so famous. It's not in great shape, but I cherish it anyway. There's a certificate pasted in the front where it was presented to a woman on her graduation of a New Orleans seminary. Inside, I also found a card that accompanied an order of roses. I love to imagine the story behind that book.

Do you like old books that spark the imagination? Are you a borrower or a lender? What's the latest addition to your shelves? Your favorite book? Tell all, please.

Why Blog?

I come to the blogging world reluctantly. As I type this, I have three books beside my computer: "Let Them Eat Cake" by Sandra Byrd, which makes me hungry while making me laugh; "Characters, Emotion & Viewpoint" by Nancy Kress, which I ought to be reading so I can figure out how to write from a man's point of view; and "Plot & Structure" by james Scott Bell, which I ought to be reading because every writer should read it.

In addition to the book pile, there's the old work in progress, which I fear to name just in case a person who will be judging my contest entry should stumble upon it. After September, we'll discuss that more.

For now, I have one other comment. I went to see my nephew's school play Friday. Now, normally I love my nephew's plays. He's a talented kid, and he surrounds himself with talented people. But I have to say, "Once on This Island" struck me as a tad weird. And thanks to low budgets, when my nephew was supposed to be driving a white car, he had to run around the stage dressed in white holding a steering wheel. Which was better than the night scene when he ran around the stage holding "headlights" that were pointed toward the sides. He also played quite the, well, player, taking a peasant girl as his mistress. Tell me, when did it become OK for high school plays to have mistresses? Listen to me, I'm old-fashioned at 36.

OK, now I want to know what you're reading and why. If you have a favorite play, feel free to share that, too.

Now, if only someone finds my blog....