a life for itself
Writer, et. al.
From questions about school funding to the passing of TIF bonds to fund Kevin Plank’s future “North Haverbrook on the Patapsco,” and the cancellation of the Red Line, to the most recent, contentious issue of mandatory minimums for handgun violations and even the question of monuments to the Confederacy, it hasn’t been the best of times for the Mayor and City Council of Baltimore.
I went full-speed ahead with a yes when my sister asked me to look at her book-in-progress. Or, to say it more accurately, we did not ourselves settle on a specific word to describe what I would be doing. I figured I’d do what I usually do in these situations, some mix of proofreading, copy editing, line editing, and maybe rewriting a thing here or two (though at this stage, it was pointless, since she’ll be doing a lot of rewriting herself). It’s what I often do when I look at something for someone, depending on my relationship with the person, when we haven’t agreed upon exactly what I’m doing. Since it was my sister, I thought I’d try to just be as helpful as I could be.
I’m back behind a text editor. For a long time now, my mantra has been “write every single, blessed day,” but I had to learn some new truths about writing. Sometimes, it’s good to step back for a while and get your head, get your feet back underneath yourself. With the relocation to Baltimore, the back and forth to NJ, figuring out work and a bunch of other things, I needed some time to think. Breathe some. But I’m back. It’s spring. It’s time to create again. So watch this space.
Off and on during parts of the day, I would ask myself, “what do I want to write about when I get home?” In the auditorium after being talked at and shown PowerPoint slides with long blocks of text. When I felt fatigued and my irritation growing with the pain in my feet on the way back from lunch. At 4:30 when I literally had nothing else to say because I’m not an expert like the people I was with in the room.
I was back in D.C. For my job. The details of that aren’t of the greatest importance. Conference at a government building. Lots of exuberant participants. Surrounded by them in an auditorium, classroom style meeting space, a meeting space that looks more like a foyer. Somewhere you could stage skits, but not a play. Horrible acoustics. Then again, it wasn’t built like that.
I get it. The media is selling us an election as much as they’re covering one. It’s not as much that they’re putting time and energy into covering something in the public interest as they’re engaged in a race and a fight themselves for eyeballs and advertisers. That’s the news game and between the uncertainty of print and online, I get the push to make the most money, the quality of the information being disseminated — not always the most important consideration. It’s feed for the growing fetishization of politics in America.