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Like Vox_Rox, I write (and edit) for a living. All factual stuff, reporting, news writing, scripting yadda yadda yadda. Now I write for print for the first time ever so I have to get all that grammar junk right.
When I write here, I write so somebody can read it – me. I’ll never be able to spin tales like Sinclair Lewis or chart my life like Frank McCourt. But I can write things that really mean something to me if not anybody else. There’s one particular very short piece of prose in tilted lit I wrote that kills me every time I see it. I think it’s actually one of the rare ones that nobody has commented on, which is fine with me. I return to it, over and over. Sometimes it brings a tear to my eyes, sometimes I look at it very critically and wonder if it’s totally outside the realm of understanding, but I will never change it, try to improve it, or write something similar.
If I can turn out something like that once every 4 or 5 months, I should have a book written by the time I’m 132. The point really is, I like to read my own stuff when I can manage these brief periods of lucidity.
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I think the Apocalypse is happening all around us. We go on eating desserts and watching TV. I know I do. I wish we were more capable of sustained passion and sustained resistance. We should be screaming and what we do is gossip. -Lydia Millet
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