Recent Blog Posts:
HERE'S What Tom Says About THAT
My dear friend and fellow author Andi Cumbo-Floyd posted a blog entitled “6 Reasons I Don’t Get Author Autographs.” I didn’t need to read what she wrote to know we are polar opposites on this one. But I did read her post. She doesn’t like crowds, knows what it’s like to give a talk and then sign books, knows that writers often don’t necessarily love the person they write, “love, Andi (or Tom)” in their copy of our books. I get it. And I feel totally different about it.
I LOVE getting books autographed. My prized possession is a signed copy of Somerset Maugham’s The Razor’s Edge, my personal favorite novel of all time. I remember when my friend Brad called me and said, “Hey, Tom, there’s a signed copy at…” and he told me it cost seventy-five dollars and this was around 1979 and I was a poor, working stiff who still owed on college loans and I told Brad to forget about it. I called him back an hour later and told him I’d find the money to pay him back.
Why? Because Somerset Maugham hadn’t just written The Razor’s Edge. He’d held this particular copy of his book in his hands; had signed it. His DNA was on this sucker. So as I read my new, signed, copy, Maugham was there with me, physically; literally. The book became more alive, more connected, to me. I’d read it before. This time was different; more personal.
I sometimes write to authors when I’ve been particularly moved by their book. And sometimes they write back. Though I won’t share their names here, the notes I’ve received in return are cherished treasures. And sometimes I have received notes from people whose books of mine I have signed… including just yesterday from a student at a college I visited with my writing partner Sharon a couple weeks ago. “Thank you for your encouraging words,” she wrote, amongst other things. “Whatever your next big project is,” she wrote, “you can count me in.”
I’ve felt nothing better as an author than the feeling I get when I receive such a message.
Richard Bach wrote that some of his best friends are people he’s never met… authors… the words on the pages of their books. I get that. And I respect Andi’s position. And for me? I feel differently. I LOVE meeting authors and owning their books they have held and signed.
And yes, Andi, I have Sherman Alexie’s autograph… in a few of his books. I respect your choice. Truly, I do. And I’ll be waiting in line for my next signed book…
I flew to Orlando, Florida on Wednesday, and flew back home Sunday. I’m speaking across the state tomorrow and in Indiana next Wednesday.
Then I’ll fly to Southern California to join Mom, my sister, our family, and friends to celebrate Dad’s life on the 31st.
It feels a little like a pinball machine is going full tilt in my head with all the silver balls bouncing around at once and the bells and whistles and lights celebrating the highest score ever on “Vampire Stimuli Juggling.” WoooHOOO!
I spent much of yesterday quietly thinking.
I thought about all I experienced over the weekend at the conference; the people I met, the ideas that were shared, my daily telephone conversations with my mom, the eyes of the 10-month old baby whose eyes locked into my 60-year old eyes in the lobby of the hotel just before I caught the shuttle back to the airport to fly home.
Lindi and I watched Boyhood last night. As Mason’s life and the lives of his family unfolded before us I was filled with sadness and hope and I thought what a perfect film to watch at a perfect time.
I thought about Dad being diagnosed with cancer more than three years ago, shortly before he and Mom celebrated their 60th wedding anniversary; about the precious blessing of having him with us these past three years, which offered many opportunities to be together, to talk, to hug, to share “I love you” over and over.
I thought about how my second book, Gather at the Table, was published more than two years ago, offering my co-author, Sharon Morgan, and me the opportunity to crisscross the country since, speaking with people at universities, corporations, conferences, book fairs, churches and other gatherings about healing the wounds inflicted through racism and the legacy of slavery. Even more, our journey offered us the opportunity to build our solid friendship.
I thought about the past few months; how in July I became certified as a STAR Practitioner, authorized to integrate Strategies for Trauma Awareness & Resilience into my work. How in November I read the top ten things dead people want to tell you (ah, the timing), by Mike Dooley, the man from whom I’ve been receiving daily Notes from the Universe for the past dozen years.
I thought about driving to Southern California in December to spend four days with my parents, talking about life and death, Boy Scouts and baseball, laughing through reruns of Family Feud on the Game Show channel, setting up a new laptop to replace their ten-year old desktop that was on its last legs, going to church together the Sunday before Christmas; the church they were married in, that I attended almost every Sunday of my childhood, where we will remember Dad together at a service to celebrate his life, across the street from the hospital where I was born and where he died.
I thought about talking with Mom when we knew Dad wasn’t coming back this time, about changing my plans to immediately fly to Southern California, about her encouraging me to go ahead and attend the conference in Orlando, about my gratitude for my sister for staying with Mom throughout Dad’s passing and for several days after.
I thought about life and death and the intimate and infinite relationship between the two, about feeling as close to my father now as I ever have. About talking with my 6- and 7-year old granddaughters about what happens to Pampa after he died; about cremation and how our bodies and our spirits are both connected and separate.
I thought about all I experienced during the conference, where I became certified as an Infinite Possibilities Trainer. Where I met, spoke deeply with, and held in my arms, Mike Dooley, who’s Notes from the Universe have greeted me each morning for so many years with a reminder of my power, of life’s magic, and how much I am loved. Where I learned more about our innate ability to shape our lives and live our dreams through understanding and working with our thoughts, words, attitudes, beliefs, and actions.
I thought of the intimate and infinite connections between this conference and my work with Coming to the Table, my writing, STAR, Gather at the Table, speaking appearances, and Mike Dooley’s 10-month old daughter, my children and grandchildren, my father, my mother, and how each moment offers the opportunity for me, and for you, to direct our future.
I thought about Deborah, Jeoffrey, Gretchen, Regena, Tracy, Craig, Roberto, Susan, Rebecca, Andy, Mike, and so many others I encountered this weekend; the words “I told you I would find you again” being whispered in my ear in the midst of a powerful embrace, and knowing they were true.
It’s a lot. Believe me, I know. And I’m paying attention; enjoying the game. I look forward to celebrating my father and continuing to create my future. How about you?
The Possibilities are Infinite.