Greatness

"It's just a small story really, about among other things: a girl, some words, an accordionist, some fanatical Germans, a Jewish fist-fighter, and quite a lot of thievery. . ."

Last week, I finished The Book Thief by Markus Zusak.. I know. I know. I should have read it years ago.  For some reason it never rose to the top of my to be read pile, but I was determined. Something told me I had to read this book.

This was my very short review on Goodreads: 

I am sure I should attempt to give some kind of detail here, but I've spent the last few days immersed in the most masterful use of words I think I've ever read. I have no idea how a review could possibly convey what I feel right now.

Unquestionably, this book now ranks in my top five reads of all time.  

At first, it depressed me a little to read something so amazing. I felt small and insignificant.  I figured I should probably delete all the writing from my hard drive. I probably have that thought about once a week anyway, so it wasn't all that new.

I wondered though, while writing did Markus Zusak know his words representing greatness? Did he know how he was creating something powerful, something that would leave such a lasting impression on readers? 

I watched this.

And I walked away inspired.

I've always loved the phrase, "Dance like no one's watching." What a great reminder to the same with writing (and singing, and running, and sewing and all those other great verbs.  But not driving. Definitely remember people are watching then).

He's also motivated me to think a little about the stories and history in a new light, particularly the stories in my own family. Though I didn't really need more ideas—it's time I lack—he's made me think about how my writing might make a difference, even it's only for me. 

Do you know when you're doing something great? Can you shut off the audience of life while living it?