Angela Carole Brown

Sean
671 books | 58 friends

Janelle...
390 books | 97 friends

Lynn
497 books | 37 friends

Sarah W...
0 books | 16 friends

David R...
1 book | 241 friends

Stanley...
273 books | 2,873 friends

Ted Per...
68 books | 314 friends

Sandra Loh
0 books | 460 friends

More friends…

Angela Carole Brown

Goodreads Author


Born
in Los Angeles, The United States
January 01

Website

Twitter

Genre

Influences

Member Since
March 2013

URL


Author and musician Angela Carole Brown was born and raised in Los Angeles, California, and continues to live in L.A., which provides the setting for her novels. Angela comes from a large family, and is the middle child, with all the dysfunction that label evokes. Her father is an artist, her mother worked in politics, and her childhood was filled with music, books, art, social activism, family eccentrics, and much laughter and LOUDNESS, further fueling the stories she creates in book and song.

Angela has made her living as a musician and recording artist for the better part of two decades, writing books the entire time, but only “coming out” as a novelist six years ago with her debut, TRADING FOURS. Her sophomore effort, THE ASSASSINATION O
...more

Average rating: 5.0 · 2 ratings · 0 reviews · 3 distinct works
The Assassination of Gabrie...

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 2013 — 2 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
Trading Fours

it was amazing 5.00 avg rating — 1 rating — published 2005 — 4 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating
The Kidney Journals: Memoir...

0.00 avg rating — 0 ratings — published 2013 — 3 editions
Rate this book
Clear rating

* Note: these are all the books on Goodreads for this author. To add more, click here.

Upcoming Events

No scheduled events. Add an event.

Angela’s Recent Updates

Angela Brown is now friends with Emily Reppun
Angela Brown has read
The Whetting Stone by Taylor Mali
Rate this book
Clear rating
Gut-wrenching and beautiful.
Angela Brown has read
The Holy or the Broken by Alan Light
Rate this book
Clear rating
THE HOLY OR THE BROKEN is about the history and the phenomenon of the Leonard Cohen song "Hallelujah," the phenomenon of Cohen himself, and the phenomenon of Jeff Buckley, who was key to bringing the song to the light of day. You wouldn't think an en ...more
The Holy or the Broken by Alan Light
Rate this book
Clear rating
Varieties of Disturbance by Lydia Davis
“Heart weeps.
Head tries to help heart.
Head tells heart how it is, again:
You will lose the ones you love. They will all go. But even the earth will go, someday.
Heart feels better, then.
But the words of head do not remain long in the ears of heart.
Heart is so new to this.
I want them back, says heart.
Head is all heart has.
Help, head. Help heart.”
Lydia Davis
Angela Brown finished reading
Revolution by Russell Brand
Rate this book
Clear rating
Angela Brown wants to read
One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel García Márquez
Rate this book
Clear rating
Angela Brown wants to read
The Snow Leopard by Peter Matthiessen
Rate this book
Clear rating
Angela Brown started reading
Revolution by Russell Brand
Rate this book
Clear rating
Angela Brown finished reading
The Sot-Weed Factor by John Barth
Rate this book
Clear rating
More of Angela's books…
Dr. Seuss
“Don't cry because it's over, smile because it happened.”
Dr. Seuss

Ralph Waldo Emerson
“To be yourself in a world that is constantly trying to make you something else is the greatest accomplishment.”
Ralph Waldo Emerson

Ray Bradbury
“I have never listened to anyone who criticized my taste in space travel, sideshows or gorillas. When this occurs, I pack up my dinosaurs and leave the room.”
Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

Anaïs Nin
“The role of a writer is not to say what we can all say, but what we are unable to say.”
Anaïs Nin

Hermann Hesse
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte




No comments have been added yet.