Telling Secrets

As with about half the books I read lately, I can’t even remember where I first heard about Telling Secrets – although the author Frederick Buechner’s name is quite familiar by now, as he’s been quoted in so many other books I read. Regardless, I started it several weeks ago, and it took me many short reads to complete. Like the last book I read, this has more to do with my schedule than the quality of the book. In fact, I liked it very much.

A memoir (no surprise as this is my absolute favorite genre) about life and faith and family and how those can intersect, this memoir does not follow any sort of timeline. In fact, it has a more stream-of-consciousness feel than is common. He will be writing for several pages about his daughter’s struggle with anorexia, and then jumps right over to some issue of faith that ties in together beautifully, even though you can’t quite put your finger on how he made the leap.

I also felt like throughout the book, I’d be reading a few pages and thinking to myself that it’s sort of interesting, but mostly just self-aware musings from someone wanting to just sort of put it all out there, and then I’d be blown away by a few pages of some of the most incredible writing I’ve ever read. This happened several times throughout the book, and made the less interesting parts worth pushing through (not that I was ever in danger of putting it down for good).

The verdict: An easy read at only 106 pages, this book is fantastic if you like a memoir. And yes, while it does feature prominently the author’s faith, it’s never preachy or even annoying.