Posts from ‘April, 2012’

Speaking at book clubs is much like a walk in a beautiful garden. You prepare for enjoyment, but there’s always a pleasant surprise around the corner. Having attended more than seventy book clubs so far, it is clear that I shall never tire of them.

I’m still not used to how well received Sky of Red Poppies is. I knew it would present some of my culture to the community and hoped to familiarize them with the true nature of their Iranian neighbors and friends, but readers seem to have taken a keen interest and connect with my from the depth of their hearts. I know this because more and more groups invite me to their warm homes and receive me with open arms. From fumbling through recipes for a delicious Persian dinner to sharing their own thoughts and concerns to new immigrants needing advice as they write their own stories, readers have turned this into an unforgettable year in my life.

Last night, the book club members all wore red in honor of my poppies and the hostess had made a lovely cake decorated with strawberries to resemble poppies. The night before, a lady had cooked the Persian Osh-e-Joe. People send me home with flowers, cards, and above all, a smile on my face and a new joy in my heart.

As total strangers turn into good friends, I am filled with gratitude. While I searched for happiness in the wrong places, it had been right here within me. I leave my little cubicle, stand outside with my arms stretched open and shout, “Hey, readers, I love you, more!”

There is a bird chirping outside the window of my work space. The first time I heard the tweets, it filled me with joy as it told me spring has arrived, but after a while, the distraction became annoying, especially when I worked on a chapter that required my undivided attention. I don’t know enough about birds to identify its species, but at one point, I prayed he would move elsewhere. The novelty had worn off and I only saw the negative sides: the interruption, annoying pitch, and monotonous repetition.

How quickly we take our gifts for granted! The thought surprised even me. I sat back and considered all the possibilities out there and realized how fortunate I am that of all the windows, this lone bird has selected mine to be his home. How lucky it is for any writer to work in a place where the interruptions come from a songbird! Fate could have put me anywhere in this wide world. I could be next to a construction site, a fire station, or near a railroad track. Worse yet, I could be short of hearing or not hear at all! The little chirping bird and his annoying high pitch is a gift I had neglected to open.

Life is but a series of choices, one of which is the way we look at the world around us. It is still not easy to concentrate amid the bird’s silly song, but now when I hear him, I put my pen down, listen and savor every note. His song adds another reason to awaken and it’s a message to remind me of the many ways we can contemplate life.