Unfinished Business

I bought a book, in fact, I bought two copies of it - Unfinished Business by Lee Kravitz. I had gone to Starbucks to have a cuppa, get away from the office, and I had actually brought my own book to read with me. However, I couldn't resist going to the bargain shelves to see what was available there.

Deliberately avoiding Nahal Tajadod's The Fire of Love because I couldn't take the sex (I know, I know), Unfinished Business caught my eye. I read the back portion and then walked back to my table, which I had booked with a cappuccino, and started reading. It was, of course, a book written only for me. (Kind of like Eat, Pray, Love) And like that book it covered a year in the life of the author.

Kravitz, a magazine editor, loses his job, takes stock of his life, and spends a year making amends and reconnecting with people and parts of himself that he has neglected. As I read the first few pages, I could relate. Really relate. How many things had I told people and never followed through on?

My life is pieces of paper that I'll get back to later...

Emails unanswered, messages undelivered, to-do lists cast aside and forgotten...cards unwritten...

Anyway, I had to get back to work with the skinny latte my colleague had ordered (not to mention an English fruitcake) but I had to buy the book first. In fact, two copies as I was sure I would love it...and any book I love, makes a good present.

Back in the office there were corporate announcements to the stock exchange to process (I was, after all, on the late shift) and stories to look up (heck if I knew the background to most of these stories). Anyway, miraculously, by about half eight we were done. There was just no more space because of a combination of a deluge of stories and lots of ads. (In other words, ideal, if you're working late).

So I started aimlessly surfing the net, my book somewhere to the side, but there at the back of my mind, nonetheless.

How did I know?

My friend Barry had asked me to write a review of his book for Amazon. It's a lovely book and I was one of just five people he had sent the proof copy to. But performance anxiety (yes, I have performance anxiety when it comes to writing book reviews on Amazon) held me back. How could I capture the essence of his lovely words?

I couldn't.

Or so I thought.

So I put it away, always meaning to come back to it when I could do it justice. Properly.

And in the meantime, Barry stopped writing to me, I stopped writing to him, and guilt, guilt, guilt, pounded away at the back of my mind where I had stashed it along with guilt about so many other things, the things I had to built this wall of harshness to hide behind.

And suddenly, I thought, why not write the review now?

Answer: You don't have the book in front of you; you haven't read it in a while, how on earth do you think you could do a better job now?

Me: Well, it doesn't matter. I loved the book and I will write that I loved it. I don't have to refer to specific incidents. And I will be honest about knowing him. And so...I put in the search terms: Over the wall to Andalucia and found it. With four reviews. I would be the fifth. I wrote it out in 10 minutes. Read it over once. Edited. Read it over again. And clicked "Publish".

And that particular weight lifted.

And a shifting of guilt, even a little guilt, is always joy.