Writing is a solitary pursuit--the imagination guiding the hand moving the pen. I'm pretty old-school, valuing the work of good editors and the revisions process before letting my words go public. But life is short, right? And sometimes, just sometimes, we need to spout off.

About me...

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A writer, mother, teacher, friend, I love books, blizzards and beaches, music from Hildegard von Bingen to the Beatles to Bonnie Raitt to The Brood; I love medieval churches, red wine, creme caramel, and roasted beets, and walking the woods and coastlines of home. 

Sunday, January 17, 2010

Empathy vs Sympathy

Connection - isn't that why we write? To connect the dots in our miniscule galaxies and hope that the shapes we discern--sprinkles of light--mean something to somebody else. A lottery. A crap shoot. (How often do the words make it past our solitary screen?)
That first faltering draft so necessary, telling ourselves at least part of the story. Sympathizing with our softer selves, easily misconstrued as self-indulgence.
The trick is in firing up the rocket, blasting ourselves beyond our comfort zones into the Other (hostile? hungry? quake-ravaged? ) Territory of Someone Else.
Think of it, though: zero gravity. Floating from predictable boundaries. The outer limits. A cup of coffee spilling to the ceiling.
By the power of the imagination, being outside the box.

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