I love bookstores, but I confess I rarely purchase anything there. I can't help but look over and through the goodies set up on the various display tables. Their jackets tempt me with the sheen from the curve of their spines, like so many multi-colored chocolates. But to me, they smack of the follower; and as a rejector of most things trendy or faddish (even books) I resolutely move on in search of real gold. Don't you know that treasure by very definition is almost always hidden?
Donald Miller, but this book was different and he definitely thought we would be a match.
Heaven help me, I have a writer crush. Yes! There I am, responding with unabashed oozing over this book, in a way that is usually reserved only for the writings of people like my big sister, Elisabeth (Elliot, of course. Who I also steered clear of for years so as to avoid falling into the possibility of becoming a "groupie," as was everyone else from whom I'd ever heard her name. But Elisabeth won my heart straight away, there is simply no question.) Donald is more like my big, little nephew. As D says, he is just so sincere; and a man in the palm of God's hand who transparently strives for earnest candor, inspires me, has a voice, plus can be funny to boot - I've just discovered family.
So with a big ol' swoony sigh, I place the Storyline Conference in the box. Oh, yeah - did you think I was just going to put the book in there? This carton is for serious fantasies.
Shared with Petals to Picots