Sullygram Light…

Hello, again.  I'm the Guy in the Garret, a Maple Grove novelist by trade, back as promised after Patch ran a feature on me last month and invited me to blog here.  Let me follow up on that now with a big thank you for the e-mails and interest I've received since then.  The e-book novel that was featured, DUST OF EDEN, has skyrocketed in sales (along with my other novels in print/audio/e-book) and, in fact, reached #2 on Barnes & Noble – a site offering some 30 million choices. Again, a hearty thank you; if you are interested, you can read more about the books along with links at my web site: http://www.thomassullivanauthor.com/

But my intention in following up the invitation to blog was to supply something more relevant to living in Maple Grove, perhaps a little inspirational and motivational.  As it happens, I put out a monthly "Sullygram" with a global circulation that pretty much focuses on just that. Add that it is usually a rave about nature and the superb recreational access we have right here. I thought I would see how scaled-down excerpts would work here from time to time – call it Sullygram Light. So here are some thoughts adapted from the August archives...

Time is like an ice cube. The harder you try to hang onto it, the faster it melts away (though at least then you can drink the memory :-)). I've always been impatient with time. Even before I knew what to do with it, I couldn't stand to waste a moment.  But now I know how to capture it. First, you must savor every experience with your full senses, and then you add meaning from your mind, passion from your heart, and poetry from your soul. Then you pop it in a bottle and put a cork in it. The label on the bottle reads UNFORGETTABLE. Time in a bottle. You should keep at least a sixpack with you at all times, and whenever you feel the need, you just binge drink the memories.

So far this summer's memories include worshiping sunsets from a canoe in a still pond by my house, a bright-eyed little boy sneaking a crumpled dollar into my sax case while I played at Weaver Lake, breathing greenness in a shimmering forest, uncountable scintillating conversations, scarfing down a half-gallon of melted Coffee Blast ice cream in 122° heat index halfway through roller skiing at Elm Creek, mucho music & poetry, magical hours with my adoptive family Norby Nation, swimming in a nameless lake at night, pain and bittersweet relief upon learning that someone I met when I spoke in the House of Literature in Norway survived the Utoya massacre, biking in the rain, and laughing in the wind…

Hope your summer is filled with magic from your deepest dreams and your most sacred sanctuaries.