Syndicated columnist Randall's writing style is intensely personal and unmistakably authentic, as if she were writing a letter to a trusted friend. She shares stories of how her blind brother once tried to drive a car; her sister lost a wig on a bumper car ride; her husband coached basketball while battling cancer; and her oldest child grew up to be "not a real doctor, but play one on TV." In Randall's hands, even stories about ordinary things—from a broken birdbath to a rusty porch swing to a thousand paper cranes—all shine with extraordinary meaning and grace. Laughing or crying, readers will surely see in her stories some of their own, and may look at life in a new way.
This is my second reading of Birdbaths and Paper Cranes. I don't remember when I first discovered this collection of columns by Sharon Randall, but it's been on my "keeper" shelf for many years and it's one that I remember loving the first time I read it. Many of the stories made me laugh out loud and others tugged at my heartstrings, bringing a lump to my throat. I enjoy reading nonfiction when life is hectic or stressful and Randall's stories are the perfect in length, allowing me to read a half-dozen or so each evening before bedtime. I enjoy stories about family, motherhood, love and grief and this collection didn't disappoint and will appeal to readers who enjoy similar essays by Joyce Maynard, Anna Quindlen and Kelly Corrigan.
17 years have passed since Sharon's book was published and I was curious to see if she had anything else I could read. I didn't find anymore books, but I did come across her website and blog, which is just as entertaining (and more current) as the columns in Birdbaths and Paper Cranes.
This is a collection of delightful short stories, describing the life of a mother. My absolute favorite story of all, was “The Heart is a Muscle.” Here is an excerpt:
“When you spend 30 years of your life learning to love – working at it day and night, longer and harder with more blood, sweat, and tears than any runner ever trained for a marathon – you get to be pretty good at it. And the thing about love is, the more you give it away, the more you have to give. It wells up inside you until you think you’re going to burst. Sort of like breast-feeding, it’s all about supply and demand. Then one day you wake up and realize that most of the people you loved in your life are either grown or gone. When did that happen? And there you sit in an empty family room with a house full of scrapbooks, five sets of dishes, and this enormous capacity for love. It’s not a bad place to be, if you can figure out what to do with it.
Everywhere I go I meet people like me, who for whatever reasons find themselves at that ironic stage of life where, just when they have so much to give, they seem to have so few places left to give it. They tell me about how lonely they are, how dearly they miss the lives they had, how much they long for companionship.
I understand those feelings. Loss is loss, the circumstances vary, but the feelings are much the same. I listen and try not to say much usually, because most people need you just to hear them out far more than they need your advice. But sometimes I want to say this: No one can tell you when to love again. You alone have to decide that. But pay close attention because that time will come. When it does, you’ll want to be ready.
All those years spent loving were the best investment of your life. You don’t want to waste it. It served a purpose once, and it will again. Take all the time you need to grieve, but not a minute more.
And when you are through with grieving, please, choose life. Be alive. Go out and find somebody or something to love – be it a cause, a person, a convertible, or a cat – and then love like crazy, like you really mean business, like you have never loved before.
The world needs all the love that we can give it, and then some.
And the heart is a muscle that we either use or lose.”
I’ve read Sharon’s column in my local paper for years (perhaps decades). Her writing makes me feel like I’m sitting on the porch, in the sunshine, wrapped in a sift, cuddly, homemade quilt. Some of her descriptions sparkle like diamonds. This is a collection of her columns over several years. If you like her columns, pick this up.
These stories shined a gentle light on every day life. The author kindly lets us into her sweet memories and sad moments. She shares about the people in her life with tenderness & frankness. It reminded me to treat others more gently and that time truly passes quickly.
I have been a fan of Sharon’s syndicated column for years so it was a gift to find this gem of a book. Her down home, folksy style is a breath of fresh air. After reading this book, you will walk away feeling like you found a new friend.
This is something I would not normally have picked out. This is a bunch of true stories written by Sharon Randall who is a columnist in many papers. Some of these stories were funny, some made made me cry and some were just entertaining. It is a book you can put down and walk away from and the stories are about 2 pages long. This is good for a "need a quick read".
Wonderful essays about family life, with its births and deaths, the marriages and divorces, and the children growing up and leaving home. I recommend this book.
This was written by my godfather's wife - a weekly columnist with the Monterey Bay Herald for years and now a syndicated columnist. Great collections of stories.
Sharon's writing feels like I'm listening to a friend. It is so easy to relate to what she has to say. I laughed and cried as I read the book. And my copy of the book has been autographed!
It was not something I would have normally read. It was a good book that you could pick up and put down. The chapters were sections from her articles in the newspaper.