Of all the good reads I've enjoyed over the last few decades, I owe a large percent to Whittington.
And of the bad books, from which I've been spared wasting my time, I owe to Whit's elliptical machine.
< link to: The Elliptical Test- http://blog.bradwhittington.com/p/elliptical-test.html >
Brad Whittington is the author of The Fred Books, amongst many fine others.
<link to: Brad Whittington - http://bradwhittington.com/>
It was the Fred books that put us on the same orbit and, without hyperbole, changed the course of the rest of my life in many good ways.
I've avoided writing about Whit's influence in my life because it is - the Grand Canyon?
I don't know. I've never been to the Grand Canyon, but I have been to Stone Mountain and that one isn't big enough. One can - with enough distance and a proper lens, fit the whole mountain in one frame.
I won't be able to fully explain to you the way he fit all that gravity in one pocket, nor why he saw fit to share some with me. I'm just so glad he did.
He taught me to ask questions, good ones and lots of 'em. (The best ratio: more questions than answers)
And then to turn and ask myself.
He read my words and encouraged me to write more of them.
He taught me that writers write and less is more.
He taught me the power of repetition.
I have adopted the simplicity of his one, solitary "Ha."
He showed me rules were made for breaking - especially Strunk & White's
(but who doesn't love that E.B. White?)
He gave me Wodehouse, Bradbury, Lisa Samson, Gordon Atkinson and Timothy Cotton amongst many, many fine others.
< link to: Tim Cotton Writes - https://www.timcottonwrites.com/ >
>>Because Whit has been a friend, I've become better acquainted with Mark Twain, Don Quixote, photography, food and so much good music.
I carry with me a talking bran muffin, runaway scuba-doo and paisley painkillers.
I learned about L'Amour, living by The Code and a not-so-fictional father's admonition that what Jesus would actually do is die for the enemy.
>>Because Whit has been a mentor, I write.
I have never had to shout up at lofty places to learn from Whittington, and though I've had much to learn, he's never made me feel stupid or ashamed. I've been allowed to grow without embarrassment.
I'm a little less self conscious about my drawl and all that "y'all" when talking to him.
Unless you are an adult PK, you won't understand why it matters that Whit is one.
Timothy Cotton, too.
And because they both are, I want to promote their books and blogs and musings, but without offering up intimacies for unsolicited fishbowl viewings. We've all had enough of that for a lifetime - or two.
So - why bother writing with 110 film?
For the same reason we bother to go outside at all - for the reason we hike mountains or wade in streams... simply because I can.
The air is fresh, the sky is beautiful and my life is better for the readers and writers alongside me.
Brad Whittington is one of my all-time favorites.
And it deserves to be written down.
In recent months, I've been sifting through a measure of personal disappointment(s). I haven't been sure how to talk about it all, if at all.
Without a neat little package or bow tied on top, it's little more than whining. Who do I think I am, King David? At least the Psalms are followed by Proverbs.
If I am to bemoan my life, I must offer you a token metaphor in exchange for your time, or a takeaway that makes all pain relevant, always.
Ya'know?
That's just the way I am to me sometimes.
Unreasonable.
Today, in Barnes & Noble, I saw another all-time favorite author, Anne Tyler, has released several new books since last I saw her name on shelves.
<link to: Anne Tyler -https://annetyler.com/ >
I've been kinda busy, getting divorced, trying on new jobs, setting boundaries and building new routines, so I forgave myself for the lapse. Then I sat on the floor and started reading the new synopses and reviews.
As I reached for the next title, my eyes fell on Mark Twain and then on Updike...
I realized in that moment, like a faint memory whose facts may not be entirely plumb, perhaps it was whenWhittington sent me in search of 'Roughing It' by Mark Twain that I first glimpsed 'A Patchwork Planet' by Anne Tyler or a collection of short stories by Updike.
I cannot put in order all the good reads I owe to Whittington, but they have been a continual - and monumental- feast.
On the floor of Barnes & Noble, surrounded by books that have nourished me and books that await me, I found an edge piece to the puzzle ever before me: What writing means to me is ______ ( this space intentionally left blank- you'll have to find your own answers. But, hint! Start with good questions... )
And now, a toast: To writing....To words...To Whit...
L'Chaim!
