Saturday, January 28, 2012

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, Miller

A Million Miles in a Thousand Years
Donald Miller

“…we fail to acknowledge the brilliance of life because we don’t want the responsibility inherent in the acknowledgment. We don’t want to be characters in a story because characters have to move and breathe and face conflict with courage.”

            The theme this month in my reading life seems to be one of optimism. I suppose that bodes well for a start to the new year, and it is certainly a welcome change from my MA subjects of study (Modernism and African American Lit are two of the things I love most in this world, but I wouldn’t say reading either is a particularly joyful experience). I don’t want to think of myself as inherently pessimistic, but sometimes my mind attacks me and tells me all kinds of terrible things,  like life is meaningless and we all die alone – especially you will die alone, Emily, and not, unfortunately, for a very, very long time. I recently assigned my students to read David Foster Wallace’s Commencement Speech to Kenyon University. In it he says that he understands why people who shoot themselves usually do it in the head; that’s the part that’s plaguing them – the “evil master,” he calls it. (I did not mention to the students that DFW committed suicide himself, later, but one of the more dedicated ones came up after class and expressed her surprise at having found that out. Does that make what he says about controlling your thinking any less valid? I don’t think so. It seems like just more evidence for his claim.) Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that I understand Foster Wallace’s point, which is why I’ve become a Buddhist – so that I can learn to control my thinking and not be such a slave to my mental demons. It is also why it is something of a relief to read authors like Glass and Miller who believe that at the bottom of everything there is a fundamental connection between people, that the essence of the world is good not just in some mystical, veiled sense, but right here, now.

            Miller’s book is about what he learned while working with a couple of filmmakers to make a movie out of his memoir. If that makes you think this book is about the craft of writing, you are right. But what’s cool and unique about it is that Miller takes the lessons he learns about how to craft a good story – a good story has “a character who wants something and overcomes conflict to get it,” “good stories have good scenes” – and applies them to his life, so that the book is interesting not only for writers and artists, but for anyone who wants, as Miller thought-provokingly terms it, to “live a good story.” I do, I do! The only problem, for me, is that I want to write them, too.  

It’s fine to read Miller’s book as a regular person. It’s good to think about how to create more risk and meaning in our lives. But it’s harder to read it as a writer, and think about combining that role with being a person. The lessons Miller learns make me feel anxious and guilty, as well as inspired, because when I read them I find it difficult to control my mind, which is constantly telling me that I’m not doing enough. Not only am I not living a good story, but I’m not writing them, either. I understand that I have done some pretty awesome things, and I have even written a few things that I feel really proud of, but the fact remains that it is never not true that I could be doing more. I could get up earlier. I could stay up later. I could forgo the hangouts or the elaborate lesson plans. I could dedicate myself to my art. Whatever I do is never good enough for me. Is this my story? Miller says you can change your story, choose-you-own-adventure, so to speak. It’s all up to me.

Maybe there is some direction for me in the ending to the book, in the part where he gets to the hope that I mentioned at the beginning of this post. Writing about a bike ride he took across the country, Miller says, “If a story sets our moral compass, my compass had changed from cynicism to hope. I didn’t believe the television pundits anymore. I didn’t believe people were by nature bad or my neighbor was my enemy. The America we see on television and read about in the newspapers isn’t the America we found as we pedaled across the country at fifteen miles per hour. We encountered no fear or tension. Instead, in small towns stitched together by back roads, we found kindness.” So maybe I need to concentrate, too, on turning my moral compass from cynicism to hope, and expect the reception of my private thoughts to be met with kindness and interest, rather than scorn and dismissal. My very smart fiancé always says that life gives you what you expect it to, and in fact I know someone who won the Powerball jackpot. He was already rich before that, and people kept asking him why he was even playing Powerball in the first place. You know what he said? He said that he kept playing because he thought he would win. Playing Powerball would be a lot easier than what I’m trying to do, but it probably wouldn’t make as good of a story.



  1. Enjoyed this post. Thanks for writing it. I've only read Miller's Blue Like Jazz (was that the memoir being made into a movie?), but I'm encouraged to take this on as well. Any specific chapters in which the lessons Miller learns were particularly poignant to you?

    Interesting to hear this from a Buddhist perspective, as a Christian (although it is not particularly enjoyable), I've found that coming to the realization that I am not living my best life (or having my shortcomings brought to my attention) have brought me to the most dramatic points of personal development and growth.

    I totally agree that these times of critical self evaluation have to walk hand in hand with hope. If not it becomes some sort of mental self flagellation that is the furthest thing from healthy.

    Thanks for the review and I hope to check it out soon...

    PS. Had never heard that quote from Drew, wonder if he still plays...

  2. I think the whole book is quite poignant from start to finish, but I especially liked the sections where he talked about a friend of his named Bob. Bob's life and ability to create good stories was inspirational to Miller, and to me, too. I'll also say that even though Miller writes about serious life stuff and what he says made me think deeply at every turn, his writing style is very simple and easy to read. It goes fast.

    I don't know if it was the book they were making into a movie, but would you suggest I check out Blue Like Jazz, too?

    Thanks for writing, Nathan! :)

  3. Good to hear from you. Glad to see you are still writing. I'll need to check out your blog more often! (Just put a hold on "A Million Miles..." at the library).

    I enjoyed Blue Like Jazz. The sub-title is "non-religious thoughts on Christian spirituality" and I think he does a really good job of that. Basically a guy being honest about things he struggles with and how he finds bits of truth along the way.

  4. Emily, I second the encouragement to read Blue Like Jazz. It's part of the reason I chose to move to Portland and go to PSU. The section at Reed is one of my favorite things in the world.

  5. Good to hear from you, Joe. (For some reason your comment ended up in the spam folder so I'm only just hearing from you now.) I will definitely read this Blue Like Jazz thing. Maybe after I leave from Portland, it will be a nice reminder of this "home." (Moving back to New York in June!) :)