A few years ago, my brother Reginald said something that has stayed with me.

Now Reginald isn’t one to talk just to hear himself talk. He’s always been a better listener than talker. So when he says something, I tend to pay attention.

We had been talking about a close family member who was getting ready to publish a book. She had shared with both of us that she was worried about how people might react to what she wrote.

Not because she was planning to tell lies.

Quite the opposite.

She was planning to tell the truth.

And as most folks learn sooner or later, the truth can make people mighty uncomfortable.

Somewhere during our conversation, Reginald said, “Look, man, I learned long ago if you want to keep a secret just write it in a book. People don’t read anymore.”
I laughed.

But the older I get, the more I think he may have had a point.

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard somebody criticize a book, then admit they never actually read it.

Or form an opinion about a story based on what somebody else told them it said.
That’s not exactly a new problem, but it sure feels more common these days.

Now don’t get me wrong. I’m not claiming to be some great scholar. Lord knows there are books sitting on my shelves that have collected more dust than fingerprints over the years.

But I’ve noticed something.

Reading requires you to slow down.

You have to sit still long enough to listen to somebody else’s thoughts.

You can’t skim your way through understanding a person.

You have to spend a little time with them.

The family member who worried about publishing that book went ahead and did it anyway.

And you know what?

The world kept turning.

Some people agreed with what she wrote.

Some didn’t.

Most probably never read it.

I’ve learned something similar while working on my own book. Most folks aren’t nearly as interested in your story as you think they are. They’re busy living their own lives.

Still, I think writing things down matters.

Memories fade.

People pass on.

Stories get retold.

Details get lost.

Before long, something that actually happened starts sounding like something nobody is quite sure about anymore.

That’s one reason I’ve come to enjoy writing these columns.

I’m not trying to settle scores.

Most weeks I’m just trying to write down a few things worth remembering before they disappear.

Maybe that’s why Reginald’s comment has stayed with me all these years.

“Look, man, I learned long ago if you want to keep a secret just write it in a book. People don’t read anymore.”

Funny line.

But beneath the humor was a little truth.

The things we write down have a way of outlasting us.

And if we’re lucky, somebody eventually reads them.

At least, that’s how I remember it.

As Best As I Remember It.