Dancing to Dirges

Depressing and happy things Tim says, sometimes while drunk

Wednesday, October 08, 2008

I drove thirteen hours

So. How about that economy. Good times.

I was home in North Carolina all last week, spending time with my parents and walking around the old home town. I like that place. The problem is that all of my connections there are laden with religious implications. My classmates are all missionaries and preachers and homeschoolers. Decent folks, and we get along just fine, but there's an awkward distance between us now. Half of what you believe is superstition, to me. Everything that's important to you is in your imagination. How do you have that conversation?

Anyway. It was good to be home. I wish the trees had changed, but they didn't.

While I was home I got my line edits from Nottingham. They asked for them by end of month, so I prepared myself to be all busy for the next couple weeks poring over the notes and making changes to the manuscript. And then I did the whole thing in two fairly short sessions, Sunday and Monday. I must be missing something. I haven't sent the correct manuscript back, because I printed it out and am giving it one more read through. It's been a couple months since I thrashed this draft together, so my eye on it is fresh enough. You know what? I'm happy with the book. I'm enjoying reading it. I think it's good.


At 10:18 AM , Anonymous Anonymous said...

Do you ever envy those people who can find such joy in the church lifestyle? I know that I do. I stopped going a long time ago because I would leave so pissed off. Go figure. Have you seen Bill Maher's "Religulous?" I can't wait!


At 10:26 AM , Blogger colin said...

There's a bit of that old time religion on my father's side of the family, and I did, once, envy them. It was when my grandfathers died (both died within about a year of each other). The funeral on my mother's side was, well, fine as funerals go. On my father's side, though, these people were sad Pop was gone, but so much more comfortable with it. When I saw that, I envied the religious.

At 12:37 PM , Anonymous aetius said...

It's weird, because my memories of the old place seem completely unconnected to the church. Mostly I have wispy sketches of memories of the park, the pond, and playing in the woods near our houses. I remember the church, but in a really abstract sort of way - mostly feelings of wanting to escape whatever incredibly boring thing was going on at the time. :) Maybe I just wasn't there long enough for it to sink in.

At 12:56 PM , Blogger Tim Akers said...

I didn't really mean to start a religious discussion, but it's sort of inevitable I guess. Do I feel envious of those who still believe? Probably. Certainly. My departure from the church wasn't easy for me to come to grips with. I wanted to believe. I wanted these things to be true. But hey, they aren't. I can't choose to believe that.

Funerals are the only time I have trouble with this. The only thing to celebrate at a death is the life lived. There is no comfort, there is no silver lining. But I guess that's the only thing that really makes life precious. Some bullshit like that.

I remember someone's mom yelling at us for throwing paper airplanes from the balcony. That's pretty solidly in my head. But when I talk about the church, I really mean "the holy catholic and apostalic church", like the community. Not the building. Though it's a pretty building.


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