Millhauser

You can't just read a Stephen Millhauser book in your favorite chair or in bed before you go to sleep. You have to put a hammock in an unused corner of your yard, take the book on a trip, or at least — at the very least — turn your reading chair around to face another wall. Millhauser will always take you on a journey of imagination, playing tricks on you, making you believe in things that aren't so or look at a common object diagonally. He is a conqueror of that moment in space between wakefulness and dreams, shuffling and confusing the two. When you've finished a story you need a moment to "return" and it's too special a moment to be wasted on your blank TV set or your bureau — you need to be able to look up and sigh and be able to focus on something unexpected there in front of you. Ah, Stephen, Stephen...

I hooked up with an old friend on Facebook about a year ago. Someone I knew in high school and for a couple of years after that. Then, as friends do, we drifted apart. And if Facebook hadn't come along, who knows if we ever would have gotten back together.

Now, I'm not talking about an old flame — though in the day, the "group" dating thing was where it was at. So we were all True Loves in some way or another. No, this friend of mine was just sort of always there. Beloved and funny and smart and such a good friend. And getting to know him again through Facebook has been enlightening. I never realized how much of "me" was formed during that friendship. I wonder if he can read some of my posts and "Likes" and notes and see some of himself in there. I know that I can look at his bio and say "he likes that because of me. He may not realize it, or remember it, but I know I introduced that to him or discovered that with him." It's amazing how much this person will always be a huge part of the intricately crafted soul of me.

So thank you my friend, for reminding me who I am and why I am and how I got here. ♥