One of My Favorite Books

Okay, really.  I know I’m given to exaggeration.  And if you know me, you know it too.  If I saw a deer run across the road, it’s six points larger and ten feet closer to the car by the time I tell you the story.   Oh, and his nose was glowing red.  At least, I’m pretty sure it was.  I can’t resist making the story better than it is.  I try hard not to, but sometimes it just happens.  I’ve been forced many times to stop in the middle of a story and say, “Okay, look.  Let me back up.  That last part?  I didn’t actually bump into Matt Damon in New York City.  I saw him from across the street.”  (And that never happened, by the way.  I’ve never been to New York City.)

I think it’s the hallmark of storytellers.  We can’t stop ourselves from creating story.  One of my favorite books is Betty Smith’s A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.  I read it once or twice a year and it never gets old.  But I think it’s one of my favorites because I saw a whole lot of me in Francie Nolan.  At one point, Francie keeps getting into trouble for lying.  Only she’s not lying… She’s making the story better.  At least, that’s how she sees it in her head.  So her very wise teacher takes her aside, hands her a piece of paper, and bascially says, “When you tell the story, tell it as it actually happened.  Then pull out a piece of paper and write what should have happened.”  Oh wow.  Isn’t that beautiful?  I read that in high school and went, “YES!  Somebody else out there is as weird as I am!”  It’s a beautiful day when you realize you aren’t crazy…

So, what’s your favorite book?  And if you’re hungry for a good read, go find A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. It’s amazing…

-JB