I always think when I see such a meme or assertion: “If you actually do believe that rubbish, you’ll learn that you can’t do it. I have.”
A mere seven years ago, in early 2012, most of you had never heard of me and I knew of almost NONE of you (who did not know me already in real life).
I thought once again about how learning history is, yes, about broadly knowing “big events”; but more important is drilling down to contextualize them and seeking better to understand those lives lived before ours.
My mother never knew any of my books even existed because I was certain she would have been unhappy with them; I didn’t see the point of creating trouble and my uncle had agreed with me on that…
Sometimes I write a comment and afterwards I think… that should not be “buried” among other comments.
My cousin in New Jersey, prompted I gather from all of our exchanges about her daughter’s writings, emailed me that she had the other day bought ALL of my novels.
As I sat at the man’s desk, my father-in-law next to me, as she stood a couple of feet away she asked next: “Really? What are you doing here?”
I do get it. I don’t live in a “la-la land”; and I believe most other people out here actually don’t.
I entitled this post “Flowers On The Edge” at the last minute because I had felt she was much like a lovely flower and always living on the cutting edge of life – determined to live well no matter what.
I was also proofreading yesterday and I thought once more about the fact I am yet again unsure and uncomfortable about some of the things I have written, and I am writing about, in a manuscript. But that is also an aim. We should be unsure and uncomfortable at times in both our writing and in our reading.
Remember this too. When we’re younger, we are often more challenged by what we believe to be older people’s “narrow-minded” and “old-fashioned” opinions. Someday, though, *you* will also be the older relative your younger relations will almost certainly consider out of touch and maybe even batty…
It’s not the history so much as the fiction that lights up the pages.
Ladies, your man may want to say something extra-special to you today, but he may not be able to find the right words. Be understanding, please. It has always been such with many of us men.
Over a year and a half since I put its first words on a blank screen, Tomorrow is feeling increasing “today”: daily it is more complete. I had laughed to myself while sitting at that La Clusaz table as well that whenever it is finally finished, you may again think as you read some of it – as with parts of Conventions – that I have lost my creative mind.
I had also anticipated I would not be writing much this week in France due to the fact four of us are unexpectedly sharing a small holiday apartment. So I had decided that I would at least read some while here.