www.andrewmackay.net:

I’m reading My Life with Charlie Brown, which is a compilation of select articles and letters that Charles Schultz wrote. It’s pretty fascinating to get an inside look at the life and practices of a man who had a phenomenally successful comic franchise. So far, my favorite quote is:

People also ask me if there’s any message or theme to Peanuts. I suppose it might be that Charlie Brown, in spite of always losing, never gives up. But really, I never think about that. I just think about how I’m going to get two or three more good ideas. I draw from day to day.

Fascinating that in 1995, after many years of writing those characters, he was still just hoping to turn in good comics. I think there’s something in that for every creative endeavour — don’t worry about the big picture of your art or your craft so much. Just turn in good work as you’re working.

A Haiku (edit: after review, an edit resulted in this being a near-haiku. oops!)

Coffee tastes great.

It is my first smile of the

day. More caffeine, please.

Half of the troubles of this life can be traced to saying yes too quickly and not saying no soon enough.

Interesting.

We were working around the house rampantly last night in advance of house guests. Why is it always that way? I don’t know. I mean, sometimes are obviously worse than others, but even the “good” times require some clean up. Anyway, as we cleaned, it occurred to me again how little good I am around the house when it comes to fixing things. Some guys have more aptitude that way than others. I had a moment of sadness for Luke, because, well, he’ll grow up not learning how to fix things well either (unless he spends a lot of time with Rebecca’s dad). That really kind of stinks.

But then I realized that I was just falling into the ever-so-common “Grass is Greener” way of thinking. I may not be able to raise my boy to be a fix-it-all like Bob Vila (heck, even Red Green would be a step up!), but then, Bob Vila probably wouldn’t be able to raise a child to understand computers, economics, and english like I can. That might not be fair to Bob, but the point is, I can’t raise a child the way he can, but he can’t raise a kid the way I can, either.

Kinda comforting. But not in a “my dad could beat up your dad” way.

At this point, I think we’ve all heard Malcolm Gladwell’s statement that it takes 10,000 hours of practice to become great at an activity or hobby. It resonates with me.

The problem is, I’ve started to ask myself, without any alterations in how I spend my time, what am I becoming great at?

The answer, unfortunately, is that on my own I am becoming great at wasting time on the internet. Now, 20 years ago, that would’ve maybe meant something, but today, it means that I am one of many. Maybe even one of most.

Which is really pretty lousy. I mean, people who are good at wasting time on the internet today are like people who were great at following instructions during the industrial revolution. No, wait, those people actually provided something of value to society. People who are good at wasting time online don’t even do that.

I’m going to try to pick a couple of things to get great at that are beneficial–if not for society at large, then at least for me and my family.

What are you becoming great at naturally?

Success is getting what you want, Happiness is liking what you get.

True or false? I’m not sure, particularly about the first half of the quote. Discuss.

I came across this little list of creativity tips the other day. It really has some good points on it. As I’ve struggled lately to focus my creative energies, I’ve been looking for someone to tell me what I’m doing wrong.

I think perhaps the three most important tips in the list are:

• Don’t consume and create at the same time — separate the processes.
• Allow your mind to wander. Allow distractions, when you’re looking for inspiration.
• Then shut them off when you’re going to create.

If I could do those three things, I’d be way better off.

You know, the internet blew up the other week when Anne Rice announced that she was leaving organized Christianity. She sliced that pretty well, actually, saying that nothing changed about what Jesus did for her life, just that she was sick and tired of being associated with a lot of the things done by organized religion. There’s a pretty in-depth story at Christianity Today about it. Now, it’s clear from her statement that Ms. Rice and I are about as far apart on a lot of issues as two people could be. But…

I guess what gets me is that some days, I understand where she’s coming from. Some days, the dialogue that Christians are trying to have with the world really does seem hateful, arrogant, and… I’ll say it… dumb. Really dumb. We have the Gospel, and instead we share our twelve (hundred) points (stated negatively) for transforming culture, or politics, or whatever.

We do not transform anything. The Gospel transforms everything. Man, some days I wish we acted like we believed it.

“Humor helps us to think out of the box. The average child laughs about 400 times per day, the average adult laughs only 15 times per day. What happened to the other 385 laughs?”

I don’t know who said that, but it seems like if it’s even close to true, they may be on to something. Of course, having this little boy running around saying outrageous things makes it easier to laugh more frequently.

(For example, Him: “Mama’s making some… some… food!” Me: “What is it?” Him: “I don’t know!” Me, trying to be silly: “Is she going to feed us a car?” Him, achieving silliness lift-off: “No, it’s going to be something we WANT!”)

It had been a while since I’d been in a bookstore. I saw my chance, and I took it — a great big Borders store. I went in just to browse. I don’t know if perhaps the nature of the business just requires them to cast a wide net, or what, but it felt like miles of shelves of junk with just a few gems hidden here and there. Two sections dear to my heart particularly made me cringe; the Christian section was bad (lacking depth), the YA section seemed worse. Immensely worse. I found myself thinking “who’s reading this stuff?”

I worked my way through the rest of the store, and as i got to the other end, I said to myself “This is it… there is no longer any need for bookstores. There’s nothing about this experience that I can’t beat online. It’s useless.” I aimed for the door.

My path took me through the children’s section. As I walked through, I heard a little boy, probably 5 or 6 years old, say “Where the Wild Things Are? Can I read that one, mom?” I teared up. It was just a little bit because I don’t cry.

That’s a special book. And maybe that kid was drawn to it because he saw the movie, but maybe — just maybe — he stumbled into it. And that’s not something you can do the same way online. You can’t just be immersed in great books and have the opportunity to stumble into Where the Wild Things Are.

I said a silent apology to Borders. I also decided I wanted to own a bookstore, which my wife mentions might not make sense in our market. I’d want to run it entirely on recommendations… staff recommendations and public recommendations. If it’s a great book and you’ll tell people about it, we’ll stock it. Otherwise, we just won’t bother. Less “throw it against the wall and see what sticks” and more “Here, there be great books.”

I was reminded this evening of the power of books. Even if I don’t ever own a bookstore (and I probably won’t, realistically), I’m committing to going to our local store and spending the occasional dollars. I want my kids to have the chance to pick up a good book by mistake.