From Joseph Gordon-Levitt and his immensely popular open collaborative production company, hitRECord, comes the first in the new three-book series, The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories: Volume I (It Books, an imprint of Harper Collins Publishers)
To create The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories, Joseph Gordon-Levitt--known within the hitRECord.org community as RegularJOE--directs thousands of collaborators to tell tiny stories through words and art. With the help of the entire creative collective, Joe culls, edits and curates the massive numbers of contributions into this finely tuned collection. Reminiscent of the 6-Word Memoir series and the PostSecret books, The Tiny Book of Tiny Stories brings together art and voices from around the world to unite and tell stories that defy size.
I’ll let him tell you more about it …
I’ve read this tiny book of tiny stories a couple of times now and I find it fascinating. It is filled with these awesome little nuggets that are incredibly powerful. They make you think. The stories include amazing illustrations that just grab you and pull you in.
The back cover says: the world is not made of atoms; it’s made of tiny stories.
How true is that? Look back over your life for a few minutes … and think of all the tiny stories that brought you to where you currently are. Tiny, powerful stories.
I’ve been a fan of Joseph Gordon-Levitt for a while, even before I really knew his name. I remember him from episodes of Roseanne and Third Rock from the Sun. I loved his characters in (500) Days of Summer and Inception. I have to say though, after checking out www.hitrecord.org , I like him even more. He is opening doors and providing opportunities to artists all over the world. Artists, who might be overlooked by others, now have a voice. What could be cooler than that?
I encourage you to check out the site. Get involved. Tell your tiny story and see what kind of an impact it could make.
Here are a few of my favorite stories from the book:
One day before breakfast, an orange rolled off the counter and escaped its fate, bounding happily through the kitchen door. Filled with hope, the egg followed.
One night your walls will disappear and all the things you held so dear will float away inaudibly.
A man touched me: his hand … my thigh. I touched him too: my fist … his jaw.
If I read our story backwards, it’s about how I un-broke your heart, and then we were happy until one day, you forgot me forever.