Today in my poetry class we talked a little bit about everyone having a story. The idea that everyone you pass has their own story that is just as complicated and important as yours is a very hard idea for me to grasp. It's hard to think that Hitler had a family that loved and cared for him or that Brittany Spears has to go to the grocery store. All of these things are just hard for me to think about. This probably has a lot to do with me feeling like a happy outcast in this class. I find it hard to believe that life is all sad and dreary "my parents beat me" mumbo. I know that some people do have it rough and I don't mean to come across as cold to others problems but I am a firm believer of what i've come to call a Janie Dossism. One of her, and my, favories is "put on your big girl panties and deal with it." Don't write a poem about it and if you do, use it yourself. Don't put it out there and make people feel sorry for you. But that's enough projecting for one day.
An easier thing for me to believe is that every story has a person. There isn't a doubt in my mind that Liesel Mesiminger isn't out there somewhere reading her books without her Mamma, without her Papa, without her one and only love. She is out there somewhere reading her story to the only person who cares now, Death.
This sounds morbid I know, but it's not, trust me. If you'd like to know more about this story it's one of my favorite books and it's called The Book Theif and is by Markus Zusak. There is a link to the summary at the end of this blog, though I highly suggest you read it. I have a copy if it needs borrowing.
I read this book about every six months and it never gets old. The language and colors Zusak uses are so moving, they have to be real. Just like every time I go to a fair I expect to see a disgruntled Holden Caufield sitting on a bench watching his sister go round and round on the carousel thinking about catching little kids before they fall off of a cliff.
These characters are so real to me that I can't imagine a world where they didn't exist. How do we know we aren't just manifested words on paper. Who's telling your story?
A common theme through this blog is being a proactive member of your own life and I still believe you should do that. Live a life worth telling a story about. Don't hold back and don't ever forget that yours isn't the only story being told. Remember to take a moment and read others stories too because they might, in some weird way, be tangled up in yours.
I believe that everyones story is woven together, some more than others, but never the less they are the same. Just like we are part of our parents stories and our grandparents stories, we just come into them a few chapters in. There are stories out there we don't know about, but we might come to be a big part in.
Maybe this is a stretch but this reminds me so much of the song "The Whole Wide World." The video link is at the end of this blog as well and please ignore the cheesy images. This song talks about going the whole wide world just to find someone who you are supposed to be with. You sit around and feel sorry for yourself when really they are waiting for you, it's just that no one's told them about you yet.
I guess what I'm saying is do something worth while. Don't be a dime store novel. Go out there and be a best seller. Hell, be featured on Oprah's book club if you'd like. Just make your story worth while, or no one will want to read it. Do what makes you happy because if you do that the best you can, then it counts. Doing what makes you happy counts for more than you could imagine. So if during this chapter you take a lot of naps, but you're the happiest person in the world, then that will be a good story.
Be memorable readers. And please don't forget that someone out there would go the whole wide world for you.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Book_Thief
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lErHYnIMmTA
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