Monday, October 10, 2011

Sushi


This beautiful comment, and the observation that follows it, was posted this morning by Facebook friend, Donna Belleson. Such kind words to start the day. And of course I mention Facebook only for reference. No medium, however large or pervasive, can contain the human spirit.

I just finished William Michaelian’s first novel, A Listening Thing. I picked it up and could not put it down (except to let the dogs out — they were grateful). Reading this book was a bit like my first experience with sushi... while taking the first couple of bites, I was not quite so sure of what I was getting into, but I kept eating because it was so beautiful... and strangely delicious. In the end, I was filled to the brim, but still comfortable in my jeans. Looking forward to the next plateful, William. This was a five tilde read ~~~~~

*

Your brand of humor flows effortlessly... even before reading your book, those who know you can feel that it comes from ‘beyond thought’. To me, that place beyond thought is where personal genius patiently, or sometimes impatiently, resides awaiting our notice. If we are fortunate enough to find it, and then to be able to tap that gift and present it in in a form that can be absorbed by others, this is art. Thanks for sharing yours...

Thank you, Donna.


8 comments:

Stream Source said...

Oh.... and did I mention that William is also a really good guy? (Insert smiley face here)

William Michaelian said...

Actually he’s rotten to the core, but, thanks to the persistent help and encouragement of others, he does have his moments.

Transcend Designs said...

I couldn't agree more,
I'm so glad there are people who can use this language of ours to the fullest extent...

: )

William Michaelian said...

Thank you, Brad. Words, and the silences in between, are a constant source of wonder....

Two Tigers said...

William, the more I think about it - and I have been, ever since I finished reading your book - it seems that what made your book such a good read for me was that it did not feel like reading at all. It did not feel as if I had been handed a collection of well-chosen words sent to me with the task of conveying certain ideas or emotions, however admirably they discharged this duty, and it was up to me to receive them and judge them. It wasn't even as if you and I were having a conversation across time and space. It felt as if you and I and countless others were sitting together in that moment after the laughter from a really wicked and wise joke has just faded into silence. And then without a word, glasses are raised.

William Michaelian said...

A toast, then. Gabriella, what a beautiful, lovely thought, and a high compliment indeed. Thank you. You’ll be pleased to know, and yet probably not surprised, that the feeling you describe was with me when the book was being written. And it has remained so. I’ve said before, a book, or any piece of art, is a meeting place. Your words here are just as I experience and envision it. How fortunate I am that A Listening Thing should have you as a reader. It really is a dream come true.

-K- said...

I'm sure everyone has there own examples but for me, the bottom of page 54 through 55 is really what "A Listening Thing" is all about.

"The man waving was a private miracle - a small accident entirely unsuitable for grand or religious purposes, and therefore something to be treasured...The kind of miracle that makes life waht it is - a painful, sweet, maddening, befuddling journey. The kind of miracle that says, Listen."

William Michaelian said...

Thanks, Kevin. I remember when I was choosing an excerpt to present from each chapter, how pleased I was to find this one, as if it had been waiting for just that purpose, to serve almost as a miniature version of the book. And yet I felt that way about the other excerpts as well. Most important, though, is that your note shows you were listening.