Growing into grace

New York Times best-selling author Anne Lamott is known for her candor and honesty, as well as her outspoken political beliefs and devout faith. Olsson’s Books and Records, 418 7th St. NW, will be hosting a book signing and discussion at 7 p.m. tomorrow for Miss Lamott’s latest reflections on spirituality, “Grace (Eventually): Thoughts on Faith.”

Wiry and witty dispatches on aging, familial relationships and falls from ski lifts, “Grace” colorfully but tenderly tackles difficult moments, such as assisting a friend’s suicide, and happier ones, such as when to overcome a dancing phobia and join in for the Electric Slide.

The following are excerpts from an interview:

Question:This is your third book on faith. How did you choose these particular stories for inclusion?

Answer: They were really just the next batch that came along organically. I love being a little bit older. I really do think you grow up as you go. In “Grace,” I am kind of dealing with the reality of who I am now and that I am probably not going to be too much different than this. And how I can be more graceful about handling the things I don’t get.

Q: How has your faith evolved during these past 20-25 years? How does your work reflect that?

A: I didn’t mean to become a Christian — my father hated Christians and especially Presbyterians. He was the son of Christian missionaries in Tokyo, and he just found them lacking a certain deep human quality. He called Presbyterians “God’s frozen people.” So I accidentally wandered into a mostly black Presbyterian church when I was 31, when I was still drinking. I didn’t mean to go to church. I went in because I didn’t have any more good ideas, which I think is where spirituality really begins.

Little by little, I started to follow Jesus, without knowing what that meant. I had been living fairly successfully with a good career, and I had lots of loving relatives and friends. But I just thought I was the most screwed-up person on earth. I thought one day the phone would ring, and I would be busted as a fraud. I would have to get a real job, and I would get kicked out of the tribe.

Jesus took me just as I was. I got sober and learned who I was. I needed to let go of this baggage that I had been carrying, this identity that I thought I needed to be a writer — suffering, narcissism and self-loathing.

Q: That’s an interesting idea — the perception of a writer. How would you say your faith has impacted your view on suffering and self-loathing and that in turn has impacted your writing?

A: I was raised by a writer, and most of our friends were alcoholic writers also. I sort of bought into that whole thing, that somehow the suffering and the chaos you created in the world and in your own life just came with the territory. I think that has killed a lot of people.

I really did worry if I got sober my gift wouldn’t be there, that my gift was dependent on having this kind of edge of despair and of being larger than life, which you certainly feel like when you’re drinking. You also feel as small as a lentil, so failing as a creative spirit, as a human in your own family.

When I got sober it took me a really long time to be able to write again — months — and then it felt like somebody had come by and cleaned the windows. Everything I have written since I got sober has been much better than the earlier stuff.

Q: How does aging affect your views on grace?

A: Being a parent really grows you; so does beginning to be old enough that a number of people in your life die. It shakes you up and forces the issues of who you are and how are you going to live. How much more time are you willing to waste doing stupid stuff that doesn’t matter?

Story Continues →