Being Loud

I am not a loud person but I’ve been thinking, lately, about what that means. I’m the sort who hopes she doesn’t get a prize because she doesn’t want to make cheering noises.  Don’t get me wrong, noise is very important. Mine just tends to the literary and the conversational.

I am reading book called When We Are Bold. It’s a series of short biographies of women who have made a difference in peace, in politics and in the environment. It is inspiring to read about all the different ways of resisting, of standing up and of being strong. You have to pick your battles, pick your medium and play on your strengths.

I plan to use my words.

This was never intended to be an outlet for political thought, but more of a musing on writing and what it means to be a writer. But art is not created in a vacuum. So, forgive the occasional foray into…no, don’t forgive it. It’s part of life. I write stories of men and women and the worlds they live in. I write of economic disparity and the distance between rich and poor, those empowered and those not so lucky. But I don’t ever believe that someone can be better or worse based on sex or gender.

 

I’m going to continue to write the stories. I’ll continue to visit my worlds. I hope you might come too.

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