Everyone has their memory about the moment they realized stories took place in neighborhoods like theirs, to people that looked and sounded like them. Before that moment, you are an outsider – non-existent almost, because neither tragedies nor comedies happen to people like you – a voyeur peeking into the place where the imagination plays. But after that moment you ascend into the company of those that are worthy of being dreamt about. It’s when you see yourself reflected in the books you love so much, it’s then that you are conjured into existence.
VONA has made me a better writer and given me community. If you enjoy reading, writing, want to see more diverse books on your shelf tomorrow, if you support places of learning, if you’ve ever read anything I’ve written and enjoyed it, if you just got paid…DONATE. $5, $10, $15, $20. It can mean the world for a writer this summer.
I’ve been studying Buddhism for about a year now. The short reason is that nothing in me resists when it comes to Buddhism. Things in me question, but nothing resists and I feel my questioning is encouraged in the tradition I practice in. It just speaks to the particular questions I have about life. And anything that makes you slow down, think, and encourages you not to be an asshole is a good thing in my opinion.
I have attempted NaNoWriMo before and I never got past the first few days. The first day would begin with all the enthusiasm and promise of a strong cup of coffee. I would hammer out that day’s word count like a boss. The next day I would get about half as much out, but with the certainty that the third day, inspiration would strike me like Thor’s hammer and I would catch up. The next day, I wouldn’t do shit.
I really did not want to do this. I’ve been avoiding it for months. By this, I mean writing about anything that has to do with death and having a blog again. I’m sick of everything from a movie to a night out drinking finding its way back there again, sick of thinking about it, reading about it, hearing from other people about it. I would like to pass around a big plate of shut-the-fuck-up. And blogging? I tore my last blog down as soon as it completed its purpose of curing my writer’s block. I certainly didn’t want to start a new one with the last thing I want to talk about. So why am I here again and despite my reluctance?