I use to be fairly obsessed with J.D. Salinger’s work. It was a cool high school thing. I was anything and everything but a cool high school kid in 1966. But, oh, I tried. I loved Catcher in the Rye, of course. And Salinger’s Nine Stories. How I loved the stories.
And I especially loved the book, Raise High the Roofbeams, Carpenters. I can’t remember the plot at all now–how strange–but I so loved the title–then and now.
I would like to live in a way that my delight in the moment forces the expansion of the roofbeams of my world.
I would like to live in a way that my gratitude at being Here and Now blows up the current dimensions of my personal world.
I would like to celebrate my new book, it’s humor, its depth, its sheer existence–in a way that puffs open the roofbeams of my literal and figurative house.
I’m not exactly there yet. But I love my book, Not Over Yet. I think it is smart and deep and sincere. And I hope to be able to feel my love for this project, as I let it go into the world. I so loved writing it–the roofbeams were surely vibrating then. Now?
It’s harder.