I’ve been feeling sort of mute lately – reaction to being molested by mosquitoes, reaction to the slow but tangible change in the weather – even when it’s 90 there’s a hint of autumn beneath the heat now.
I didn’t write about 9/11 – but then I never have – because there are far more eloquent tributes written by others, and because I don’t like to dwell on the maudlin, and because I believe that filling the media with stories about it only lends power to those that caused it. Which isn’t to say that we shouldn’t remember, I just don’t believe it needs to be so public. I think what Rana and Carmi said are better than anything I could say, anyway.
I didn’t write about the 40th anniversary of Star Trek, because I forgot, and then because I didn’t have anything punchy to say. (I did, however, almost buy some TNG action figures at LoneStar the other day, but they didn’t have Data or Geordi, so I opted not to.) If you want to read a great TrekDay post, head to Wil Wheaton’s blog – the first two lines are the best.
I didn’t write about Cleo’s new habit of bringing in water bugs (known as cockroaches in less gracious parts of the world) and depositing them ON MY BED. And I didn’t write about the way she barrelled through the argiope’s web, causing me to be worried…about the SPIDER.
I didn’t write about the fact that I’m itching to bake, and have no one to bake for.
And I didn’t write about the customer service at Chase being the worst on earth.
And I certainly didn’t mention that I posted my first entry for fanfic 100 at LiveJournal, and that I’ll consider posting it to MoonChilde.com if people want to read it.
There are lots of other things I didn’t write about, too. But those were the key elements.
I, of course, would love to read it :-)
The cool thing about writing is you get to pick the one thing in the world that interests you at that moment. And you get to ignore the zillions of other things that don’t. It’s a very empowering thing, actually.
Of course, it took me years to appreciate that. At first, I, too, worried about the things I was missing, the things left unsaid.
Then I realized I’m only one person. So whatever I write, I write. Whatever I don’t, I don’t. And if it never gets written, c’est la vie. I can only crank out so many words in a day.
Which reminds me…I woke up early to finish off a research note that’s due in 3 hours. I’d better get back to that before my brain loses steam.