One book, two book...

Upon arriving home one afternoon, I noticed a UPS tag on my front door telling me of a package at the apartment complex office. I hadn’t ordered anything and it wasn’t my birthday so why was I receiving a package?

At the apartment offices, the receptionist rifled through a few dozen boxes and packages of all sizes, looking, looking. She asked me if I knew the size of the item. No, I had no idea. Finally, she discovered a small, book-sized package with my name on it. A book? A book! Someone had sent me a book??! But who? And why?

I consider books to be treasures and books given as gifts hold even more meaning. I tried to look and act nonchalant as I walked out the door with my package. Through my front door five minutes later and I had the brown wrapping torn off.

I read the cover: Naked, Drunk, and Writing: Shed Your Inhibitions and Craft a Compelling Memoir or Personal Essay by Adair Lara. I’d never heard of the book or the author. Who had sent this to me? Who would have thought this book was just what I needed, just at that time? Well, no, not the "Naked, Drunk..." part!

A shipping confirmation fell out of the crumpled brown wrapping. Two lines of extremely small print, a note from my brother: “I’ve enjoyed Adair Lara’s columns in the SF Chronicle. Thought this book of hers is one you’d like. Love, Warren.”

Silly as it may sound, I clasped the book to my chest feeling as delighted as a child on Christmas morning.

My brother did not know that four months before I had begun writing a memoir for my sons. Didn’t know I had sputtered and faltered, started and stopped; often feeling overwhelmed and more often than that, unsure of where and how far to take my reminiscing.

Naked, Drunk and Writing guided my endeavor to completion (the author has a quirky, yet understandable explanation for the title). I found innumerable cogent suggestions and the author’s personal commentary helped me ease into and through sensitive areas in my memoir.

Six years ago on my birthday Warren gifted me with one other book on writing: the altogether sensuous and lovely Fruitflesh: Seeds of Inspiration for Women Who Write by Gayle Brandeis.

I don’t talk with my brother about my writing and he doesn’t ask. This isn’t inconsideration on his part. There are simply many other areas that have our focus. He knows, however, that I have always enjoyed writing.

These two books are usually beside my “reading chair.” I pick up one or the other and leaf through—most often in my “out of touch” times when my writing muse is on a vacation (she leaves at the most inopportune times!).

With a few flowers in my garden

half a dozen pictures and some books, 

I live without envy. 

~ Lope de Vega 1563-1635