Day: September 28, 2011

I used to tell Struggle Stories all of the time, but my spiritual work had made me conscious of their destructiveness and narcissistic roots. Books tours were one of my annual struggle stories. Fighting with the publisher. They didn’t understand a tour, they weren’t used to the road, they were always cutting back, were clueless, unsympathetic. I hated airline travel, my feet hurt, couldn’t do my work, blah-blah-friggin-blah.

I don’t tell those stories any more and I see now that they weren’t even true. They were a way of my seeking sympathy. But for what? My good and lucky life? The fact that I can do what I love?

Someone at the reading in Colonie asked me if I would miss the farm and the dogs, and I was about to break into an old habit – saying the book tour was tough and draining and tiring, but I caught myself.

No, I said, I don’t miss the farm.  I don’t miss the dogs. I love traveling to other cities, talking to readers, dog and animal lovers, followers of the blog. Some people have been following my Hero’s Journey for years, and I love seeing them, talking with them. How I would shrink and shrivel if I never left the farm, spent all of my days walking dogs, talking to donkeys, trekking to the Studio Barn to bother Maria.

Dogs are great, but they can also be boring. They aren’t stimulating to talk to, unless you are strange (I sometimes am),  want to talk about food and rabbits all day.

Book tours are intense, tiring, disruptive. I love them. Once a year, I get to go out into the country at someone else’s expense, talk about my work, listen to people who read my books and follow my life. Their questions and interest defines me, allows me to see myself, to grow

We all want sympathy I think, even whining writers living on their hills. And maybe people grieving animals.

But I find that struggle stories usually fail. People are absorbed in their own problems, and aren’t interested in my struggles. And too much sympathy can be crippling. I don’t miss my struggle stories.

I am fortunate in my life to have found some remarkable working women. Maria does more things than I can list. She is a gifted artist. She is a curator. She shovels manure out of the barn, feeds chickens and brushes donkeys, tends gardens and fixes gutters. She runs a successful website, and makes quilts, potholders, streaming art works, takes videos. She drove me around for hours on the first day of the book tour.

Rose’s work ethic is quite famous, and well known. Yesterday, the two strong working women on the farm – there is Frieda too – teamed up in a new job for Rose.

The Book Tour kicked off nearby Monday. Maria and I went to Saratoga Springs, but the bookstore was sold out. We drove to Albany for an interview on WAMC with Joe Donahue and then to Barnes & Noble in Colonie. Tomorrow I do interviews and spend the afternoon signing books at the Battenkill Bookstore – a lot of new orders coming in (518 677-2515) for signed and personalized books.

The reading was wonderful, the audience intense – so many were crying and I never saw so much pain in the eyes of an audience I have spoken to. The questions were very strong, very thoughtful and I learned a lot.

People responded to the idea that their guilt was in their heads, not in reality. That most of us give our animals good lives and ought to feel good about that. We talked about perspective and the context in which grieving occurs. But there is a tremendous amount of suffering there, and people are struggling to process it. I am glad I wrote the book. Writers are not used to talking and speaking in such an emotional environment – I am not. But it as uplifting and affecting. I am shocked at the effect of this blog. More people worried about missing Simon’s bray on the book tour than almost anything else (they are worried about Rose also). I assured them that I wouldn’t be traveling for the while month, and we would hear regularly from Simon, if not every day. A thoughtful grief counselor said she thought it was important for people to ratify their grief, to express it. We talked about the non-animal loving population and how difficult it was for them to appreciate the depth of grief.

I said the subject was, but that didn’t mean the reading and discussions needed to be. And they weren’t. I will have to figure out with the bookstores how to manage the long lines of people wanting books signed. It’s not a bad problem to have. If all of the readings are like this, I need to be prepared for a lot of emotion and feeling. For a writer, that is not a bad thing. I’m wiped out, so heading for bed. Maria did a ton of driving and I am grateful to her. She will get some rest when I head West next week