I WASN’T MUCH OF a book person when I set out to write a book. I’m still not. I can count the books I’ve read cover to cover on one hand, and most were stories I read to children under the age of five. Reading has never been my strength, my pastime, or my gift. Give me the quick overview—the first two chapters—and I’m good to go.
Yes, I do know people who read. Heck, I’m related to some who are voracious readers. My mother and husband read book after book and intentionally purchase books with more than 250 pages. Baffling, isn’t it?
I’d like to be one of those voracious readers, mostly because I want to say the word voracious when discussing my reading prowess.
I’m just not that girl. And I’m here to tell you that there are more of us than you might think. I have two friends who are successful authors, and neither is a reader. So trust me: it’s a thing.
To be clear, I do buy books—lots of books. I never finish them, but I buy them. If I borrow a book, the pressure to read is huge. But if I purchase a book, I don’t feel as morally obligated to read it. I mean, it’s mine, right? I can do whatever I want with it.
I think what it comes down to is that I have the attention span of a gnat. (I wonder if gnats actually have a huge attention span. In the world of tiny, annoying bugs, what if gnats are actually the best at focusing? Are they the great thinkers, the philosophers of their kind? PS: These are the deep, important questions you can expect to find in this book. Congratulations on your wise investment.) You get my point. It’s a bit ironic that the girl who doesn’t read a ton would write a book.
Now that I’ve revealed this big secret and shown a truckload of vulnerability the way Brené Brown told me to, you know the truth from my perspective: you can buy a lot of books and not be a huge reader.
Even though this non-reader has finally written a book, it’s okay if you don’t finish it, but you should, because the end is particularly inspiring. Yes, I did that on purpose to push you. All you three-chapter champs, get ready. We’re going all the way, baby!
Look, I may not have a PhD in English literature, but I do consider myself a highly qualified Joyologist. That’s a scientific discipline (founded by myself) where we look for joy in the most unfriendly, unlikely, inhospitable places. You wouldn’t believe where joy can grow and survive. I’ve seen it for myself, in my own story. Strike that—in many, many of my stories. And though I haven’t read profusely and I certainly haven’t written profusely, I do have stories. So yes—I’ve written them down in a book. I don’t know whether to call some of these stories comedies or tragedies, but all of them are about finding belly laughs even through the ugliest of ugly cries. About spotting joy, even if you have to haul out a microscope.
This is a book of hope. Every time I have chosen to start climbing out a dark hole (and yes, I believe it is a choice), I have found little, unexpected pieces of hope, like breadcrumbs leading me slowly, slowly, slowly toward the light. I hope that as you read them, you’ll find a little light for yourself.
I’VE REALIZED THAT
IN THE DARKEST
HOLES OF LIFE,
THERE IS JOY.