Oh, October, you tempestuous beast, you. You offered a few celebrations in my small little world, but beyond our doors, the world went to hell. Again.
Or maybe the world just established permanent residency in hell. Who’s to say? (more…)
Hold
I hold my breath when I write. I hold my breath through a sentence or a paragraph. I exhale when it’s safely on paper.
I wrote this week. I had thoughts on my writing this week.
A lot of what my book seems to want to be about is finding your voice in dark times.
The events of this past week — shootings and letter bombs and unimaginable sorrows and increasingly dark times for the most vulnerable among us — provide too much real fodder for the work.
There are many feelings now — anger, dismay, fear. These feelings are a constant for some of us, stoked by the occasional (or not-so-occasional) event that for most people are just sad news stories.
I’m just sitting with that today until I exhale.
In Search Of…
I assume even monkeys who can type throw feces at their work because they are monkeys, and one doesn’t escape one’s nature just because we’re working QWERTY.
Jackie Pick 