I didn’t read Blue Like Jazz, by Donald Miller, even though I heard so much praise heaped upon it years ago, and friends whose opinions I respect recommended it. Over and over.
I don’t know why I never read it. But I will read it.
As soon as I finish reading Miller’s latest book, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.
What a refreshing take on writing stories, and living our own stories, and choosing a better story if the one we are living is boring, or meaningless, and the importance of a true inciting incident in both cases in order to force our comfort-seeking, afraid-of-change characters (and selves) to actually have a story.
Plus there’s some truly delicious writing between those bright mustard-yellow covers, including the best description of corn on the cob I’ve ever read.
I’m just sayin.
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