Created for Necessity, Employed for Passion

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet"

Let's build a world. Explore what we believe by writing. In many ways my characters’ experiences with fate, destiny and free-will mirror my own. What is up to us and what isn’t? It’s one of the great questions of the human experience, I think. But no matter what is for us to control, we must own the identity. You’re a writer if you write. Period. Writing is a lovely way to spend one’s time. Enjoy it. And I hope you enjoy my writing here.

Sunday, December 16, 2012

I don't know what to say.

I don’t know what to say. I have heard those words so many times over the past few days. We don’t know what to say. Nothing seems adequate. We feel guilty for going about our lives, we feel guilty for our sadness—after all, we did not lose someone. I want to talk about gun control; I don’t want to talk about the shooter. I want to read everything about those children, to honor them, and yet when I see their faces, I cannot clear my eyes.

This tragedy has touched us all.

I don’t know what to say.  I don’t know what to say, so I will write.

I am a children’s author. I believe in words. I believe in their power—to inspire, to reflect, to love. I believe in their worth. I believe in their power to heal. Particularly stories for young people. Many of my fellow authors like to talk about how redemptive children's literature is. That it is hopeful, and that makes it not only lovely to read, but also to write. It gives us faith. The words make us believe-- we can do better, we can love deeper, all is well. 

I've seen so many words since Friday. News articles and blog posts and headlines. Some have made me cringe, some have made me cry. Some seem to lack pure motive, others have been simply snapshots of anguish. All have tried, in some way, to make sense of this. We have used the only tools we have.

And yet, they fail, too.

Words are not adequate. Everything is insufficient. There is so much.

But we need to try, I think. We must keep talking, keep writing, keep sharing. We must keep stumbling over words, using the wrong ones, forgiving each other for it.

Someone asked me yesterday how it is possible that so much evil exists in the world. I try not to believe in evil. I believe in people who have strayed very, very far from love. But how could we classify Friday’s events as anything but?

I do not know. But I know that word has power, and that is a start. Because if evil has power, so does love. And I believe, I know, that love is greater.

I love you all, and I hold you closely now.



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