Every year, one of my new year’s resolutions is to read a book a month. Sometimes I make it and sometimes I don’t, but unfailingly every year it’s a challenge. I read a lot for work, and if you throw in newspaper & magazine subscriptions, and several must-read blogs, it gets pretty tough to squeeze in books.
I ticked off Number Three (yeah, I’m lagging) over Easter weekend, a book called The Longest Way Home by Andrew McCarthy. It was recommended by Juliann over at Browsing the Atlas.
I didn’t quite appreciate that it was the Andrew McCarthy from Pretty in Pink and St Elmo’s Fire, until I saw the photos in the book. Oh him, I thought. He has added travel writer to his CV.
This book is his personal journey, written candidly about his coming to terms with making a commitment – specifically getting married to his now wife D – interspersed with introspective trips to the Amazon, up Kilimanjaro, down Patagonia, through Costa Rica, around Chicago, somewhere anywhere so that he can figure out what he wants home to mean to him. Although his particular need is extreme, it speaks to all of us who prize personal space and love the freedom of travelling solo … every once in awhile, that is.
~ Spotted Cow