Along with Charles and members of New Generation of African American Philanthropists, I am so appreciative of recent media coverage about the release of Giving Back. Media have helped generate a buzz around the book, prompting broad interest and brisk early sales.

Tracey Webb, creator of the popular blog BlackGivesBack.com and founder of The Black Benefactors giving circle, deserves an extra special thanks. Her blog posts about Giving Back…found here and here…have helped us reach national audiences and connect with kindred spirits who are building on the traditions of Black philanthropy.

“There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.” — Zora Neale Hurston

Zora’s statement rings excruciatingly true with me. Giving Back contains a vast collection of stories—photographic imagery and narrative form—I ached to tell. And I’m grateful for the media stories that are sharing news of our book of stories about good people doing good.

If you missed any of the coverage to date, here’s a list with links:

Pushing through this prickly path to publishing Giving Back has prompted a blog post or two. And if the last quarter proves to be the last mile, then its reputation for being the longest and hardest part of the journey is woefully understated. Surely gentler trails and greener places lie ahead. Favoring rose metaphors, I concede the truth of what Anne Brontë knew: “But he who dares not grasp the thorn Should never crave the rose.” Pointed reminders of the duality of my striving arrive daily.

One morning last week, I confided my struggles, as is not uncommon, to a close and longtime friend. Michelle has kindly lent her ear…shoulder…hand…brilliant mind…literary sensibilities…and enormous heart, at precisely the right time over the past fifty-some months. (Actually, my dearest friends all seem gifted with exquisite timing.)

On this day, however, pressure seemed to grip me particularly tight. Following an email exchange with Michelle for quick comfort, I resumed my laser-sharp focus on work. A requisite aptitude for writers. Dog barking. Stomach growling. Phone buzzing. Doorbell ringing. And I shut it out to meet a pressing deadline.

from Valaida's iPhone

Breaking momentarily from my mind’s cloister, I clunked down the stairs to the feed the dog, fix some lunch, check messages, et cetera, et cetera…but as I approached the foyer I glimpsed it. On the porch, peering through the glass-paned door: a flower delivery. Roses. Michelle knows.

And her card to me read . . .

"But friendship is the breathing rose, with sweets in every fold." — Oliver Wendell Holmes

— VF