Photo by Sarah Hoey
This is a random post. On love. And writing. And all the things happening in my life right now. Beautiful things. Not so beautiful things.
Tonight I will be on a stage. On a big stage. The stage in Town Hall in Seattle. The stage where I saw writers like Tom Robbins read. A while ago I couldn't imagine it happening. And now it will. I'm Amanda Palmer's guest on her book tour. For her beautiful book THE ART OF ASKING. "How did that happen?" Many people ask. I think it happened through love. I give away my books for free, which is giving love. Amanda gives away her music for free, which is giving love. Someone noticed, told us about each other. We started talking on Twitter, and yesterday we shared borscht. I cooked it, with love. She ate it, with love. Tonight we will be talking more about it, about what it means to ask, and to be vulnerable, and, underneath it all, to love.
My daughter sent me love yesterday. She animated IRKADURA cover. And it made me cry. Because the song at the end, it stirred memories. It was her showing me that she felt me. What could be more beautiful?
More love. I met with a writer friend yesterday. We talked about what it means to be a professional writer. I tweeted our conversation. People reacted to it in different ways, many were outraged because in his eyes I'm not a professional writer since I'm not making much money with my books and am I represented by a traditional publishing house. But I didn't see it that way at all. I saw it as an exchange of love. He felt safe enough to tell me his fears. Because that's what was sitting underneath our conversation. My fear. His fear. What will happen to our books? What is going on with all those changes in the publishing world? How will we survive? I felt love. There is so much of it in me, ever since I started writing...it grows and grows and lately I don't seem to run out of it.
READ MORE HERE. There is more love. I promise.