Write What You Know?

I’ve heard it more times than I care to admit, those people reading my writing, clucking their tongues and saying, “You write what you know.” And I get exasperated, because they’ve probably just read my treatise on the glory of the socialist state, or my poem about a trip to hell, or the story I wrote from the perspective of a girl who lost her virginity at 13. How would I know anything about any of that, having never lived in a socialist state (that I know of), never having been to hell (although maybe Brooklyn qualifies these days), and never having been a girl (my virginity was intact until I was 21, by the way)? Yet they somehow try to force me into the narrative, into the dialogue somehow, as if there is no other way of writing, as if my imagination isn’t good enough (or perhaps too good) to come up with something like that out of thin air.

Give writers more credit. Or at least give some writers more credit. You know the writer who only writes about their daily lives, their troubles, their issues, and their foibles. And that’s okay. Some of my favorite bloggers are those who write that and only that. It’s what they know, and they’re experts at it. If I can’t live inside their skin, it’s a close second to read through their emotional baggage laid out on the screen. I know, too, for so many of those writers, it’s a therapeutic exercise, to get it all out, like focused breathing. In and out. Repeat. Some writers have that gift, to connect the readers with the experience, just as it happened and nothing else. Continue reading “Write What You Know?”

The Apologist, Part 2

Those two little words.

“I’ve skirted all my differences, but now I’m facing up. I wanted to apologize for everything I was, so… I’m sorry.” – R.E.M.

When I was a kid I remember my mother giving me “the look,” the one that said I did something wrong and I needed to somehow make it right. But I never knew what it was I did wrong in the first place, and I had absolutely no idea how to make it right. She would sit me down and explain what I did wrong. Maybe I pulled my sister’s hair, or I stole the Kool-Aid, or I forgot to feed the guinea pig, or one of a million other things I tended to mess up during the course of my short life up until that point. But that was the easy part, coming up with the problem; it was the solution that always proved to be difficult.

I’m sorry. Why was that always so hard to say? Maybe because I wasn’t. Not really. Not ever. Continue reading “The Apologist, Part 2”

What Makes Dates So Special

What do the following people have in common? Jamaal Charles, running back for the Kansas City Chiefs Savannah Guthrie, co-anchor of NBC’s Today Show Hayley Williams, lead singer of the group Paramore Louis Pasteur, the father of Germ Theory John Amos, the father from the ’70s TV show Good Times Cole Hamels, star pitcher from … Continue reading What Makes Dates So Special

Nocturnal

I should honestly be asleep right now, considering I was up until 5:30 this morning, and the time is now only 9:13, but I can’t seem to close my eyes. Every time I shut them there’s this blinding light on the other side of my lids that forces them open again, even though they’re bloodshot … Continue reading Nocturnal

Various & Sundry

Jell-O shots. I’m thinking yes.

You know those kinds of weeks when everything seems to happen at the same time, almost as if the rules of the space/time continuum has bent to accept the incongruency, much like Neo eventually bent the Matrix to his will because he was the One? And it seems like the second you sit down to relax something rears its head and stares at you, as if to say, “What do you think you’re doing? There’s something else on the schedule.” Then night comes and you’re so exhausted that you can’t even think straight to enjoy a small amount of down time. You find yourself falling asleep to your favorite show, and you drop into bed, worn out beyond belief. Only to do it all again the very next day, with no relief in sight. Yeah, I’m having one of those weeks. Continue reading “Various & Sundry”