I don’t think I’ve ever gotten a truly positive review of a book from Publisher’s Weekly. They can be a bit snobby about books. And even their review of Million Miles is fairly safe. But I’ll take “funny as hell.” Here is their review. It will print in next week’s issue:
A Million Miles in a Thousand Years: What I Learned While Editing My Own Life Donald Miller. Thomas Nelson, $19.99 (288p) ISBN 978-0-7852-1306-2
Miller, the accidental memoirist who struck gold with the likable ramble Blue Like Jazz, writes about the challenges inherent in getting unstuck creatively and spiritually. After Jazz sold more than a million copies but his other books didn’t follow suit, he had a classic case of writer’s block. Two movie producers contacted him about creating a film out of his life, but Miller’s initial enthusiasm was dampened when they concluded that his real life needed doctoring lest it be too directionless for the screen. Real stories, he learned, require characters who suffer and overcome. In desultory fashion, Miller sets out to change his own life—to be the kind of guy who seeks out his father, chases the girl and undertakes a quest. Along the way, he comes to understand God as a master storyteller who doesn’t quite control where his characters are going. An unexpected bonus of this book is Miller’s insights into the writing process. Readers who loved Blue Like Jazz will find here a somewhat more mature Miller, still funny as hell but more concerned about making a difference in the world than in merely commenting on it. (Oct.)
The book is available for pre-order on Amazon here or on Barnes and Noble’s site, here. It may be on shelves in less than a month!
And my friend Anne Jackson reviewed the book today over at FlowerDust. A great writer and a great blog.
P.S. What does Desultory mean? I had to look it up too. Here tis:
- Main Entry: des·ul·to·ry
- Pronunciation: \ˈde-səl-ˌtȯr-ē also -zəl-\
- Function: adjective
- Etymology: Latin desultorius, literally, of a circus rider who leaps from horse to horse, from desilire to leap down, from de- + salire to lea
