Certain titles stick in my mind. This is one of them. I’m not necessarily a Raymond Carver fangirl, but I have read quite a bit of his work. I find his syntax stays, less like an earworm and more like an urgent whisper.
Today, as I sat down to write–more on my routine soon–this short-story title flew into my head, a welcome ghost of readings past. I want to tell anyone following this blog a bit more about where I am today.
In my first post here I talked about having something to say. Always a good thing, in my opinion, but I don’t think you can have something to say unless you know who you are. That was a problem for me for a long time, through college and marriage and motherhood and career, and I’m still not sure why (we’ll save that for my therapist), because I am still the same me as ever I was. Does that mean I haven’t changed? Of course not. I’ve changed a great deal. What I mean by that is, I’ve always had a strong essence. In the immortal words of Olympia Dukakis as Rose Castorini in “Moonstruck”: “Because I know who I am!”
Where I’m calling from is a place of strength. A place where I can be wholly myself. I’d love it if, occasionally and at your convenience, you might like to join me here.