Saturday, November 27, 2010


a biking buddy asked me the other day who my favorite authors were.
it was as if the proverbial cat had taken my tongue: I couldn't come up with a response.
of course it was 5:30 in the morning and as usual, most oxygen in my system was rerouted from brain to leg muscles by our workout, but still, I was shocked by my inability to spew off a list of authors I love.
because there are many authors whose writing I love. too many, and this may have been part of my problem. I love many books by many different authors, and I must admit that my taste in fiction is a tad bit plebeian.
I love terrific mysteries; I love superb crime and murder and legal thrillers. I love great spy novels. I even love the occasional historic novel that is well enough written that I become lost in another era. a list of my favorite books would show my eclectic taste, and my appreciation for good storytellers whether they be writers of great literature or not.
I mentioned last month my struggle with William Faulkner, and I shamefully admit that many Great Writers are not on my personal list of Favorite Authors. I don't mind working for my reading pleasure, but when the scale tips from "work" into "struggle" I'm not likely to keep that author's name in my memory bank associated with the category Things I Love.
a list of some of my most treasured written works will be released here in the near future, but today I just want to share something I came upon in a book by william kent krueger, and author I quite enjoy.
mr. krueger's characters often live in minnesota, wisconsin, or the UP, and many have native american ancestors. though I can't say that I believe everything ever espoused by native american elders, they seem to have operated from a belief system that is more spiritual and more connected with our physical world than most others I've encountered. often, just to read quotes attributed to native american elders brings me peace and a sense of groundedness that resonates deep within.
so when the other day I read the following words that mr. krueger put in his character henry meloux's mouth, I knew I had to document and save them for the power of their impact upon me:

I think it is like this. The spirits shoot an arrow It is past us before we can see it clearly. But if we follow, eventually we come to the place where it has lodged. And we realize the arrow is not important. What is important is the place it has guided us to.
Heaven's Keep p.211 William Kent Krueger

many books have been arrows for me; many people have been arrows as well. sights, sounds, feelings, experiences, at times all of these have been arrows along my path. and the biggest arrow during these past four or so years of my life has been one with two wheels and a set of handlebars.
for some reason the spirit shot this into my life, and I have been following its path ever since. I know this, I understand this. I love my cycling, but I realize it's simply a means to an end.
and if I continue to play my cards right, I'm hoping it's a means that won't ever truly have to end, regardless of what place it guides me to.

I plan to keep reading until I'm too old to do so, for I never know until I finish a book exactly what treasures it will drop into my life.
and I plan to keep riding my bike until I'm too old to do so, for I never know until I start riding down the road exactly what treasures it will drop into my life.
but I am certain that both will continue to do so, as long as I give them the opportunity.

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