Irmgarde Brown's Blog, page 2

The Countdown

While working through all the “best practices” and advice for a successful book launch, one of the recommendations is to post a countdown. As I think about countdowns, I realize the very act of creating a countdown has layers of emotional significance. (I have to thank my AI intern for some of these ideas.)
Anticipation: Undoubtedly, this is the most indicative of how I am feeling about my new book coming out. As each day draws me closer, I can feel my insides start to murmur. It’s not a full rolling boil yet, but a kind of trembling of the waters. Most people might recognize this feeling of anticipation for a personal event in their lives, like a wedding, the birth of a child, a graduation, or a big vacation. But I can attest, a new book coming out is very much like the wait for a new baby, both in planning and in wondering how it will “come out.” God forbid someone calls my baby ugly.

Childhood Musings

While promoting my first novel, Sister Jane, many people asked me if the story was true. Or worse, they’d ask if it was my life story. The answer to both is “No.” Those questions caught me off guard. If the story was true (in a factual way), wouldn’t we have heard about a miracle worker who had a “batting average” of 1000? And if it was my story, would I be out here hawking a book instead of hanging out with sick people? I’m being ultra-catty, I know, but honestly. 

Who are the Orphans?

I am an orphan. But then, most people my age are. It’s the natural flow of life, children outlive their parents, and the baton is passed.  

My father died when I was nine and apparently, in that moment, I became a “single orphan.” I didn’t know I had a label, but I certainly knew what it was like to be raised by a single mother. In some ways, it was for the best. My father was twenty-five years older than my mother, and I believe the speed of change for a non-English speaking older gentleman would have become more challenging than bearable. It was hard enough for mother to keep up, but she did keep up until 2004, dying at ninety-one.  

Circle of Awareness

                Some years ago, my friend Nancy owned a beautiful home whose interior was decorated in the most amazing way. As far as I know, no professional designer did this work. Instead, it was Nancy herself, a lover and collector of art who had fashioned a feast for the eyes. No matter where I stood in her house, wherever I looked, something beautiful or intriguing filled my gaze. Sometimes it was a painting, but it could be a set of vases or a small figurine or sculpture, or perhaps a platter she had hand-carried from Italy. And there were family photos too, but expertly framed and perfectly placed to capture the eye and experience her family of love. With everything that she placed around the rooms, she invited guests to notice—to be aware of the surroundings, to see beauty.

Elizabeth Gilbert and Me

I may regret stepping into the mire of Elizabeth Gilbert’s most recent debacle over the delayed (or indefinitely suspended) release of her latest book, “The Snow Forest,” that was slated for the spring of 2024. My understanding is that the book is a family saga set in the 1930’s in Siberia, a far cry from the Western border of modern-day Russia where hell is being poured upon the Ukrainian people. And yet, because of indiscriminate “review bombs,” Ms. Gilbert has felt impelled to pull her book amidst the controversy.

Doors and Liminal Space

The other day, a photographer friend posted a series of door photographs from around town on his Facebook page. They were all in black and white and very moving. I remembered then that I, too, have photographed doors over the years, but rarely with any deep meaning or conscious intent. Certainly, I must have intuited how they can symbolize possibilities or new beginnings. But up until recent years, I haven’t embraced their potential for deeper significance.

I have since learned that there is a moment in between as one passes through a door, leaving one place and entering the next. It’s called liminal space, a period of transition. It's a gap, and it can be physical (like a doorway), emotional (like a divorce or widowhood) or metaphorical (like a decision).

In the Silence

What happens in the silence?

Back in my acting school days, we were often encouraged to dwell in the small silences between sentences—to not feel compelled to speak straight through, but to allow the character to think, to consider, to ruminate, if you will. And then going even further back, I remember a one-act play, actually a “sketch”, by the avant-garde playwright, Harold Pinter, in which silences were a key aspect. Of course, the two characters were both in midlife and I was in my twenties; what did I know of broken marriages and broken lives where silence reigned? That would come much later.

An Author Posse

My adult son has a group of friends he started with back in middle school. We call them the posse. They laugh together, they hang together, they support each other, and yes, they get in trouble together. I thought they’d split up after marriage, or parenthood, or girlfriends, or out-of-town jobs. But no, they’re still together after fifteen years. I’m looking for an author posse. Granted, I can write alone, but the rest of it? I need a gang.

The Path to Healing

Certainly, Sister Jane (and its companion novella, Sister Jane’s Lenten Journal) examines healing in a variety of ways: physical, emotional, and spiritual. In the last several months, I have been struggling with another kind of pain that requires healing—organizational trauma.  

Opposite of Faith is Not Doubt, but Certitude

Other people have known this. I just heard it for the first time last week at my Symposium as part of the School for Action and Contemplation. And once I heard it, I knew I needed to ponder it. At the time, I assumed the phrase was original to Richard Rohr, but a quick Google search seems to give Anne Lamott the attribution, although she uses the term, "certainty." Same thing. Although Rohr's use of "certitude" has more flair. All good. I like Lamott too.