I’m a bit sleepy this morning. Yes, some of that is due to my early morning (and currently delayed) flight, but I knew I was going to have to wake up earlier than usual this morning.
No, I’m sleepy because I went to bed later.
It wasn’t because I was up late watching TV (I actually missed last night’s episode of LOST). It wasn’t because I was out late with friends.
It was because I was reading the last few chapters of a book by Stieg Larsson.
A few months ago I asked friends and family for some recommendations of a good fiction series. Several people recommended the “Millennium” trilogy (The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo, The Girl Who Played with Fire, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornets’ Nest) and boy were they right. I loved the slow burning crime novel series and its complex characters. While the first 100 pages of each book always took me a few days, the last 200-300 always consumed an evening. Over Christmas I was thrilled when a good friend of mine living abroad brought me a copy of the final book in the trilogy (not released in the US until this May). So last night, fully aware that my alarm clock would go off in a few hours, I found out what happened to Lisbeth Salander and Mikael Blomkvist. I was thoroughly satisfied.
Sadly, Stieg Larsson, the author of the popular series, will never know how much I loved his books. It’s not because he doesn’t regularly read this blog–I doubt most authors do. He will never know how much anyone really loved his books. They remained completed unpublished manuscripts after his death of a massive heart attack. He wrote them in his spare time after work–a hobby that has now captured the literary attention of the world, and he will never have a chance to relish in that success.
During lunch yesterday with some students and alumni from ASU, the work of another Larson popped up into conversation. Jonathan Larson’s Pulitzer Prize winning musical RENT–even 14 years after its Broadway premiere continues to appear in conversation regularly. It could be a song, a performer who got his or her break on the show appearing elsewhere, a message, or a fun life anecdote related to seeing a production of it. Larson had a chance to see a glimmer of those shows possibility before his sudden and surprising death after seeing a dress rehearsal of his dream.
Two men. Two incredible contributions.
Neither had the chance to relish in his success.
They both worked at odd hours to make these dreams happen. The world now benefits from their work.
While I would love both stories of these artists to have happier endings, I must admit that I love the purity of their process. It’s obvious from all accounts that neither one of them wrote these pieces for fame or fortune. Yes, they would have loved to make money, but their real reason for writing was to share something with the world. Stieg Larsson completed all three books before beginning to share the manuscripts. Jonathan Larson wanted to open up theatre to a new generation. They chose to share.
I wonder what motivates us. If it is simply profit or prestige, I wonder if we can ever truly be happy. Instead, what if we were motivated by the idea of contributing something, sharing our passion with the world, or serving?
I’m not saying we need to abandon all wealth or recognition, but I wonder if we can do something more.
Yesterday I was once again moved by the music and story by one man who lived in a smaller apartment so he could share it.
Last night, I sacrificed sleep to read passages by a man who never had the chance to see them bound in a bookstore.
I would love to see what you can share with the world (and I also hope you’re around to see it too!)
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