Craft and connection

On the surface, this post is about a book I read this weekend that I am recommending to you. But what might not be immediately visible is the connective tissue between the book, the author, and the reader. 

Let me explain.

I read Between Panic & Desire by Dinty W. Moore. It was published in 2008. I'd read bits of it before (pieces have been anthologized and shared and used as instructional materials) but not the whole thing until now. It’s a wonderfully weird, fragmented, non-chronological memoir held together by our shared history. I recommend it.

If I may be so bold, I feel like Dinty and I are kindred spirits, even though perhaps we have nothing in common on the surface: he’s 18 years older than I am, male, of Irish Catholic heritage; also, he’s a famous writer and teacher! But. I would like to think my (as yet unpublished) 10k-word, 2nd person POV flash memoir in the form of a glossary is not entirely unlike Between Panic & Desire: figuring out the impact of an absent father; unabashedly weird form.

I feel like I know him because of his book. Actually, I do know him: I mean, I met him in person last October, when I attended the Rebirth Your Book retreat in Tuscany (if you get the chance to do it, you should). I had taken at least one virtual workshop with him prior to that (if you get the chance to do it, you should.) But in October, I didn’t “know” him and he certainly didn’t know me by any stretch of the imagination. 

Until. I happened to have submitted an essay to Brevity (run by Dinty) that was published online on October 12, 2022 (based on a newsletter I sent to you all). It was published literally as I sat down next to Dinty for lunch that day during the retreat. I think I said to him, “You may not know this, but my essay is being published by Brevity today!” and I think he smiled and nodded and the twelve of us went about eating one of many delicious Tuscan meals. (Seriously, go to Tuscany for a writing retreat).

(I’m actually skipping a bunch of essential connective tissue that includes the amazing Allison K Williams, social media manager for Brevity, runner of Rebirth Your Book retreats, leader of workshops, and writer, among other attributes, but I’ll save that for a future newsletter.)

Later that evening, Dinty approached me and said something like, “Did you know that was my daughter you included in your post?” And I’m sure I had a funny look on my face, as it took me a minute to compute what he said because I had mentioned a few writers and books in the post, but eventually I put the Moore I had referenced in the essay together with the Moore standing in front of me. Suddenly, we were hugging.

And ever since that day, I consider us friends and I am a diehard Moore fan.

The point I’m trying to make is a book is never just a book. A writer communicates with the world through the printed word. A reader reads the words and feels a resolution to their own pain or enjoys the laughs or is inspired or now sees the world differently. I think the highest compliment a writer can get is when a reader says “your writing touched me.” This is the invisible yet connective tissue that binds readers and writers, whether we meet our literary heroes in person or not.