I Really Like My Hands Today

In November of 2016, Ryan Brinson was so frustrated with the state of the world, the country he loves and the outward-facing representation of "people of faith" that he was on the verge of a Chernobyl-caliber meltdown. Every headline made him feel increasingly more twitchy and he reached the point where he struggled to hear the sounds of life over the sirens ringing in his head. On election night, he turned off the coverage and fell asleep, exhausted by his own frustration, and by the time he sat down at his desk the following morning, he'd mentally outlined his plan of escape: He would write. That release of thoughts and questions and memories and stories became his ticket to freedom and over the past year, he's discovered new aspects about his faith, his upbringing, and his self. What began as a political pressure-releaser became far more expansive-the result of which is a compilation of essays that's a purposeful mixed bag. Card games and subway rides, pool parties and spilled coffee. It's about faith and questioning, love and equality, writing and learning. Part time capsule and part looking-glass into the future, they may run the gamut of topics and themes, but they all come back to a man's quest for fullness.