Stalkerville

When I first moved to California, nearly five years ago now, one of the first things on my "to-do" list was to stalk Anne Lamott. More specifically, I wanted to find her at her church.

Being a devout Traveling Mercies devotee at the time, I knew that she went to St. Andrews in Marin. I'd seen her speak once, at a Festival of Faith and Writing, and so was sure I could spot her in a crowd. If not her, then her red-headed son, Sam, would be easy to find in a crowd of church-goers. Beyond that, I didn't really have a plan for what I would do when I actually saw her, but the idea of seeing her in a place she'd written so much about was fascinating.

I'm getting ready to leave California now, and listening to her speak yesterday on City Arts and Lectures, I realized that I'd nearly forgotten about stalking her. In fact, since her book Plan B, I've actively been ignoring her. I was so irritated by her whiny anger that I just didn't want to hear any more of it. I don't like the Bush administration much more than she does, but I just don't think crying about it is worth it.

Hearing her speak yesterday sort of changed that for me. She admitted she'd been whiny, and I really liked how she addressed her liberal San Francisco audience. She invited them to her church, but not just as a nonchalant suggestion. She promised they'd be welcomed, loved, and not harrassed. I thought that was touching, and although not an invitation to stalk her, at least a welcome to visit her at her church.

I don't know that I'll actually go, but hearing her read from her newest book, Grace(Eventually), brought me back to probably being a fan. She read a provocative part of it, about helping a friend with cancer die with dignity. I'm not taking a side here, but it brought her writing back around to the heartfelt, sincerely honest place I appreciated at the beginning.

Though I may not see Lamott before I leave, I will be moving to the same state as Kathleen Norris, whose book Dakota supplanted Traveling Mercies in the book pile on my nightstand. Maybe I will trek across and visit her at the little Presbyterian church in her town.