In my freshman year of high school, I picked up a book called “Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend” by Matthew Dicks from a local Target. I rushed through it and cried more than once. When it was all done and over, I went back and read all the other parts: the letter to Target guests, the acknowledgments, the interview with the author, the original essay from the author, and the reading questions. What I did not know was that this book was the start of something amazing.
Desperate for writing advice and so touched by this novel, I took a trip to Matthew’s website and found the contact information section. I typed a long mess of an email, edited it more times than I could count, and hit send. A while later, I received an answer just as long as my mess, wonderfully supportive. I already loved to write, but that advice fed into the fire that already lived within me.
Five years later, Matthew and I still email from time to time. He traveled to my high school my junior year to give a talk in our library. I surprised him by appearing an hour late at his book launch for his fourth book in my senior year of high school. I decorated my graduation cap with a quote from his second book, “Unexpectedly, Milo.” I’ve been subscribed to his blog for longer than I can remember, and I read the posts before I go to school every morning (on weekends, I’m lucky if I pick up my phone before noon). I’ve seen the videos of every story he’s told on YouTube. The copy of “Memoirs of an Imaginary Friend” sits on the top shelf of my bedroom bookshelf, signed, with every other book he’s published so far. I’ve even looked over manuscripts for books that aren’t out.
It’s safe to say that Matt has done some amazing things for me as a writer, and I deeply appreciate his friendship. He’s also done so much for me as a person, though: he encouraged me to take on “a life of yes.”
Matthew’s been storytelling for a long while now. He’s great at it. I’ve always been a little jealous, though, because it just seemed like something just out of my reach. That is until I happened to be staying at a friend’s dorm on the same night RIC was having an open mic night. I made up my mind a half hour before it started, totally unprepared. Time ticked toward starting time, and I was sitting at a back table, scribbling a poem from my phone onto paper to perform with shaking hands. My friend offered to walk me to the sign-up board and I followed her, internally repeating “life of yes” to myself like a mantra. It got me through signing up and onto the stage. I performed my poem, feeling exhilarated and so alive that I was up until three o’clock in the morning.
Typing an email to Matt to let him know what I did, and reading his “Huzzah!” in reply, I wanted to thank him for teaching me to say yes to whatever may come my way, but I couldn’t find the words. So, here we are.
Matt, thanks so much for all of the advice over the past five years, for encouraging me onto the stage. Thanks for believing in me and reintroducing “huzzah” into my vocabulary. I can’t wait to read and learn more from you.
