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Posts Tagged ‘Amy Sundberg’

Once upon a time there was a whisper, a wish really, running in the back of my head: “Surely there must be something better than this?” I was like a bird captured in a trap, struggling until my body was breaking and I was completely exhausted. And I was still in the freaking trap.

Once upon a time I simply couldn’t continue, and the whisper became a declaration: “I will believe there is something better than this even though that doesn’t even seem possible.” I went all in. I walked away for the first time, and I began to dismantle my life, piece by painstaking piece.

Things got worse.

And worse.

The forest, the cave, whatever you want to call it, it was so dark. And the journey was so slow. And I was afraid, and I doubted.

Photo Credit: eflon via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: eflon via Compfight cc

One of my greatest fears over the last several years has been that it would all be for nothing. That I wouldn’t be able to change myself or my life. That there really wasn’t anything better. That all of the time and effort and my suffering and other people’s suffering, that all the sacrifices I was making, would be fruitless. That my lifelong belief that more is possible for us than we realize would be proven wrong. That in my struggles, I’d end up making everything worse, and then I’d have to live with that.

I was afraid, and I clung onto my belief that I didn’t even really believe in like it was a lifeline. There must be something better than this. And I can do this. I will do this.

I won’t give up, I’ll keep going forward no matter what.

When I think back on 2014 in the future, I will remember it as a difficult year, yes, but I will also remember it as the year I left that cave.

Last month, I wrote about being stuck, and I said: “I’m not waiting for doom to fall down onto my head like an anvil.” I looked at that sentence after I wrote it, and I thought, “Oh shit. Oh shit. That is actually true. I don’t feel like that at all.”

What has changed? I have learned how to prioritize taking care of myself, and as a result, I no longer feel powerless. I don’t take on other people’s problems. When a person repeatedly treats me poorly, I don’t deal with them anymore, and honestly, I don’t care who it is. Because I deserve better than that, and I can have better than that. I work hard to surround myself with people who not only care about me but who are actively good for me. I come home to my lovely apartment with my sweet little dog and my piano and my books and my bathtub and my warm blankets, and for the first time in my life, I feel safe.

So now I know. There was something better the whole time, and I know because I’m living in it.

I’m so relieved. I’m so grateful.

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Every December I write a bit on the blog about themes that have developed over the last year, or about what I’ve learned, or other reflective stuff like that. And I think one of the main things I’ve been learning about and practicing this year is developing filters and acting upon them.

Ferrett talks about filters in his recent post “On Eternal Vigilance,” and reading it helped me cement my ideas on the subject. I also recently read a post on Wait But Why about 10 Types of Odd Friendships that is also relevant. It wasn’t the list that made up the bulk of the post that I found interesting though, but rather one of the graphics towards the beginning: The Life Mountain Graphic.

The Matterhorn is one of my favorite mountains, so I'm totally going to model my Life Mountain from it. Photo Credit: AlphaTangoBravo / Adam Baker via Compfight cc

The Matterhorn is one of my favorite mountains, so I’m totally going to model my Life Mountain from it. Photo Credit: AlphaTangoBravo / Adam Baker via Compfight cc

I’ve been trying to develop a filter that has both positive and negative components. The positive part of the filter is all about consciously noticing interactions with other people that feed me in a good way. For me, some of the things I’ve set my filter to pick up are the ability to listen well, to be supportive and nonjudgmental, to have an easy give-and-take, and to share wisdom. I look very closely at with whom I feel safe (physically and also emotionally) and with whom I feel I can be honest. I also look for a willingness to engage and take the time necessary to grow or maintain any kind of relationship.

The negative part of the filter is looking for incompatibilities and unhealthy behavior and dynamics. In dating these are called red flags, but I think it’s important to look for these in any type of relationship. Beyond basic compatibility stuff, here are some of the questions I ask:

Are my emotions being taken seriously or being easily dismissed? Do I feel like it’s okay for me to say no? Are my boundaries being respected? If someone accidentally tramples on one of my boundaries, how do they respond when I tell them and does their behavior change once they are aware? Does the person try to simply sweep problems under the rug and pretend they’re not there? How much emotional energy is the interaction taking? Am I being treated with respect (including respect for my time)? Am I receiving negative messages from this person that I have to spend a lot of time combatting? How hard do I have to work to keep this relationship functioning, and does the work seem more or less balanced?

I can use the data collected by this filter, both positive and negative, to determine who I’d maybe like to have move up my mountain and who should probably move down my mountain. This sounds simple, but in practice it can be a very delicate dance that changes over time and depends not only on the filter but a lot of outside factors.

The only way the filter works is if I act on the knowledge it has given me; namely, if I am able and willing to set boundaries and back them up. Which brings me to the second part of the lesson I’ve learned this year: I have to be willing to walk away.

Often walking away isn’t necessary. Sometimes issues can be worked out through communication (and with time). Sometimes I’ll set a boundary and the person will move a bit down my mountain and then everything will stabilize. It’s often not a big deal, as people are constantly moving around the mountain for all kinds of different reasons. But sometimes the filter has picked up enough red flags, and at a certain point there are only two options: remain in a deeply unhealthy personal interaction or walk away.

Actually, I suppose what I’ve really learned this year is not so much the necessity of being willing to walk away as the changed reality: That I have in fact become a person who will walk away. And I won’t feel particularly guilty about it. Not because I like it, but because I’ve recognized how essential it is. Not because I don’t value loyalty, but because I’ve recognized that loyalty only works when it’s also being returned.

Not because I don’t care about people, but because I’ve learned to care about myself too.

This blog post wouldn’t be complete without mentioning my filter has helped me find and maintain some truly amazing friendships this year: some brand new, some who have moved up the mountain, and some who have been close to the top for a while now. One of the great joys of my life is the people (and a certain little dog) with whom I get to share it.

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Yay, more talk about books! Sometimes I wish I read faster so I could talk about books on the blog all the time.

So today I’m going to talk about adult fiction (and by adult fiction, I mean fiction marketed to adults as opposed to children or teenagers). I read a few memoirs and a few really strong nonfiction titles this year as well, but I have so much fiction to talk about, I’m going to stick to that for now.

Books that got a ton of buzz this year and I liked but I don’t need to talk about:

Gone Girl, by Gillian Flynn. Definitely memorable. Fun to compare the movie and the book.

Ancillary Justice, by Ann Leckie. Won the Nebula, the Hugo, and the Clarke this year.

Mainstream and classic novels I read and enjoyed:

The Awesome Girl’s Guide to Dating, by Ernessa T. Carter. I haven’t read much chick lit in years because I got kind of bored with it, but this one felt fresh and different, focusing on careers as well as relationships and concerned with actual emotional issues and how they can be changed. Also had many different POV characters, which I liked.

The Interestings, by Meg Wolitzer. I’m not quite sure what to say about this book. It begins with a group of teenaged friends at an arts summer camp, and then it traces their history together through middle age, told from the perspective of one of the friends who thinks she’s the least interesting. Sometimes it’s bleak and other times it’s uplifting, and I guess it’s kind of like real life. Even the arcs feel kind of like real life.

Mrs. Dalloway, by Virginia Woolf. So this is a classic, and from a narrative perspective, it’s also kind of weird, and features stream of consciousness, and jumps in interesting ways from point of view to point of view. The language choices are stunning.

The Good Soldier, by Ford Madox Ford. I feel like most of the people I know wouldn’t like this book because it is bleak and the characters are all pretty awful and unsympathetic, but I thought it was great, which I guess tells you something about me.

Dangerous Liaisons, by Pierre Choderlos de Laclos. Okay, these characters are also awful and unsympathetic, but in this case, they are SO MUCH FUN. The movie version with Glenn Close and John Malkovich has been one of my favorite movies for a very long time, and the book, an epistolary narrative from many different perspectives, is just as wicked and fun and thought-provoking, if not more so.

Older SF/F that I completely adored:

The Glass Bead Game, by Hermann Hesse. I bought this book a few years ago and finally got around to reading it this year. And I thought it was incredible. It’s very dense and kind of dry on purpose because its framing story is being a kind of academic text. As such, it also sometimes requires reading between the lines. It is not an easy book, or a fast book, or a plot-driven book. And it is very much a product of its time in that there are no named women characters, I don’t think. It explores several key themes with great depth and insight, and the game itself, along with the culture that has built up around it, fascinates me.

The Handmaid’s Tale, by Margaret Atwood. I don’t usually include re-reads on this list, but this is one of my favorite novels of all time, and it had probably been ten years since I’d read it. And now I can appreciate the mastery of the writing even more than before. This book is dark and powerful and freaking brilliant. And reading it again was a kick because I could see ways in which it has influenced me as a writer.

Books books books!

Books books books!

More recent SF/F that I really liked:

S., by J.J. Abrams and Doug Dorst. People asked me if this was good, and I couldn’t really tell them. But if you like experimental and strange metafictional stuff, I recommend this. It’s several stories woven together into one book, using the actual text of the novel, the footnotes, and notes in the margins of the pages, along with various post cards, letters, etc. tucked away between the pages. Definitely unlike any other reading experience I’ve ever had.

River of Stars, by Guy Gavriel Kay. I love Guy Gavriel Kay’s work. I’ve only read three of his novels, and each one of them is like a multi-faceted, highly polished jewel.

The Last Policeman trilogy by Ben Winters. Told from the POV of a new police detective during the last few months pre-apocalypse, the first of this trilogy is basically a procedural (and a solid one at that). But Ben Winters shifts this structure as the trilogy continues to good effect. This one caught my imagination and ends up being a surprisingly deep exploration of the meaning of life. Highly recommended.

Redemption in Indigo, by Karen Lord. I didn’t like this book all that much at first because it was in an unfamiliar style. I forced myself to continue reading, and I’m glad I did, because by the time I got to the end, I was enchanted.

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves, by Karen Joy Fowler. Is this SF/F? In my opinion, no. But it is charming, very well-written, and deals with some deep questions. It also involves dysfunctional family dynamics (among other things), and you know how much I love those!

The First Fifteen Lives of Harry August, by Claire North. This reminded me a bit of Kage Baker’s Company books with its conspiracies and shadowy organizations. The premise is different, however; in this one, there are people who live their lifetimes over and over again on a repeated loop. They can retain their memories from one lifetime to the next, though, thus being able to make changes and thus making the highly interesting premise of this book.

Boy, Snow, Bird, by Helen Oyeyemi. This retelling of the Snow White fairy tale is unexpected and creeps into your mind to stay. I feel like I’m still processing it. It deals with themes of race and gender and passing and appearances, and also with trauma. It’s kind of maybe magical realism, or some kind of liminal fantasy thing. I had trouble fitting the ending with everything that came before, but still well worth the read.

On a Red Station, Drifting, by Aliette de Bodard. This is an amazing science fiction novella that was nominated for the Hugo and Nebula awards last year. Novella, for those of you who don’t know, means it’s a bit shorter than a standard novel. This story has it all: an intriguing plot, strong world building, compelling characters, and themes explored in a meaningful way. I really loved it.

My Two Favorite Adult Fiction Books of the Year (both are SF/F):

Mr. Fox, by Helen Oyeyemi. This book is hard to talk about. It is also brilliant. Its structure is unusual, in that it is a series of stories that are being told (kind of) in collaboration between two characters, and there are some characters that recur and there are resonances between the stories, but sometimes more than others. You see, I told you it is hard to talk about. Pretty much as soon as I finished it, I wanted to read it again. There is a lot of darkness in this book, and violence, particularly against women, that is carefully examined. Fairy tales dwell on its pages, sometimes overtly and sometimes only in echoes. Here is a more detailed review.

The Drowning Girl: a Memoir, by Caitlin R. Kiernan. I think about this book and I want to swoon, that’s how good it is. Powerful, evocative writing; an unreliable narrator who has schizophrenia and really isn’t sure what is real and what isn’t; liminal fantastical elements shimmering on the page; psychological horror with so sharp a blade you won’t notice you’re bleeding. Oh, this book. I can’t stop thinking about it. Also, if I had a Christmas list, this special edition of this novel would be at the very top; I could never justify purchasing it for myself, but it is so very beautiful.

What I’m looking forward to reading next year:

Falling Sky, by Rajan Khanna

The Ultra Thin Man, by Patrick Swenson

The Mirror Empire, by Kameron Hurley

City of Stairs, by Robert Jackson Bennett

Infinite Jest, by David Foster Wallace (just started this one on Monday!)

Middlemarch, by George Eliot

Station Eleven, by Emily St. John Mandel

The Red Tree, by Caitlin R. Kiernan

Ancillary Sword, by Ann Leckie

The Southern Reach trilogy, by Jeff Vandermeer

The Haunting of Hill House, by Shirley Jackson

Flex, by Ferrett Steinmetz (out in March 2015)

And yeah, again, I could just go on and on and on. My to-read list is immensely long at this point. This strategy seems to be working out for me, since I can’t remember the last time a year of reading has been this inspiring and interesting and wonderful. I’m keeping my fingers crossed for 2015!

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2014 was an AMAZING reading year for me. So incredible that I have trouble shutting up about it sometimes. Honestly, the only bad thing about my reading year has been knowing how hard these year-end reading posts will be to write. Because how can I choose between all these amazing books I read this year?

So yeah, this might be kind of long. And I might also not mention some books that would normally make the cut.

First, a few stats because I geek out about these things. So far in 2014, I’ve read 57 books. (Of course, there are still three weeks of the year to go, so I suspect the final count will be higher.) 22 of the 57 were YA or MG (although I only read two MGs this year), or about 39%. 20 were adult science fiction or fantasy, or about 35%. 41 were written by women, about 72%. And thanks to my POC reading challenge, 14 were written by people of color, at not quite 25%.

Today I’m going to be talking about the YA novels I’ve read this year that have stuck with me. Most of the titles are contemporary YA (I read a lot of it this year).

Books, books, and more books!

Books, books, and more books!

Interesting Enough to Mention:

Shatter Me, Unravel Me, Ignite Me trilogy by Tahereh Mafi (dystopia)

I was torn as to whether to include this trilogy on my list, and I’m still a bit torn. It certainly isn’t going to be for everyone, to put it mildly. It is overwrought (which I actually like but your mileage will vary), it is melodramatic, there are plot holes, the world building is … not the most convincing thing ever. But. (You knew there was going to be a but.) If the overwrought prose style doesn’t drive you bonkers, it is actually a fascinating reflection of the character’s precarious mental state, and it changes over the course of the three books as she changes, and that’s just cool. And I love the protagonist’s character arc across the three books. Also, Tahereh Mafi knows how to write a romance. But there are some troubling indications of gaslighting etc. here too. So, I don’t know. Definitely memorable enough to talk about, that’s for sure.

The Testing, Independent Study, Graduation Day trilogy by Joelle Charbonneau (dystopia)

An easy-to-go-down, suspenseful dystopia trilogy. The main criticism I’ve heard about it is that the main character is a Mary Sue. Yeah, whatever, it was nice to watch a female character be so competent. (And I’ll mention that so often when the female main character is not a Mary Sue, instead she’s “unlikeable.” Oh, what a fine line we draw for our fictional women.)

My Favorite YA Reads of the Year:

Seraphina, by Rachel Hartman (Fantasy)

I feel like this book has a disadvantage because I read it waaaay back at the beginning of January, which means I don’t remember its details super well. What I do remember is that it is a creative dragon fantasy that didn’t irritate the hell out of me, which is noteworthy in and of itself. Also it featured music, hooray! And a plot that (from what I remember) held together for me AND was exciting.

Reality Boy, by A.S. King

Yay, a dysfunctional family story told from the victimized and traumatized viewpoint of the “Crapper,” as he became known in his family’s reality TV days. (I realize that might have come across as sarcastic, but I am actually completely serious in my love for dysfunctional family narratives. Their potential for conflict and depth is verra attractive.)

We Were Liars, by E. Lockhart

You either love this book or you hate this book, apparently based on whether one twist towards the end works for you or not. It worked for me, and therefore I loved the book. That being said, I also liked the structure, the interstitial “fairy tales,” and our troubled protagonist. Yes, she is privileged, and that privilege is worked into how messed up everything in her life is, which I appreciated.

Since You Asked, by Maurene Goo

To be honest, I don’t remember much of the plot of this one. What I do remember is that it was FUNNY. The protagonist Holly is hilarious and snarky and full of attitude and I could read her voice all day. Also she gets into trouble by writing a newspaper column, and I love novels that feature high school students working on newspapers, so this is my jam.

Memoirs of a Teenage Amnesiac, by Gabrielle Zevin

Stories featuring amnesiacs are also my jam, and this one is less silly and more serious than most of them. I’m fascinated by memory, and the way this book played with that theme was thought-provoking as our heroine got to see her life and the people in it from a different perspective. I also liked its realistic handling of romance.

Some Girls Are, by Courtney Summers

My friend recommended this, and as you know, I am always leery of books that have been recommended to me. But I gave it a try, and then I felt like my friend knows me! Because this was such a good Amy book! Dark and gritty with a not-very-likeable protagonist whom I adore to pieces. It’s about rape culture and bullying and going to a dark place for self-preservation, and it all felt very, very real.

The Truth About Alice, by Jennifer Mathieu

And then I found this book soon afterwards, and it explores some similar themes, but the structure is oh! so brilliant. There are several different point of view characters, all of whom give the reader different pieces of the puzzle to understand the swirl of rumors surrounding the central character Alice. And we don’t hear from Alice herself until the very end.

I’ll Give You the Sun, by Jandy Nelson

This was probably my favorite YA read of the year. I love the prose, I love the contrasting POV characters of brother and sister. I love the structure of how there was a gap in time between the alternating chapters: in the brother’s chapters they are 13, and in the sister’s chapters they are 16. I love the sibling relationship with so much love. I love the characters and their passion and their dark broken places. I love the truths that come to light as the story unwinds itself. The only thing I didn’t love about this book was the ending, which was a bit too pat for me. But even so, wow, what a book.

What I Want to Read in YA Next Year:

I’d love to read a YA dystopia that really holds together plot-wise for an entire three books! Or else isn’t three books long. That would be cool. Also unlikely since dystopia is not the it genre any more.

Now That You’re Here, by Amy K. Nichols. This is my friend’s YA science fiction novel that COMES OUT TODAY! I am very excited about it!

All the Rage, by Courtney Summers, who wrote Some Girls Are above (out in April 2015)

Glory O’Brien’s History of the Future, by A.S. King

Belzhar, by Meg Wolitzer

To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before, by Jenny Han

The Winner’s Curse, by Marie Rutkoski

The Spectacular Now, by Tim Tharp

Eleanor & Park, by Rainbow Rowell

The Young Elites, by Marie Lu

I Was Here, by Gayle Forman (out in January 2015)

Shadow Scale, by Rachel Hartman, a companion novel to Seraphina above (out in March 2015)

Rhiannon, by David Levithan, a follow-up to Every Day, may be coming out; if so, I’m all over that! I still think about Every Day sometimes.

Okay, okay, obviously I could go on forever here, so I’m cutting myself off. What YA novels did you read and like this year? Which ones are you looking forward to reading next year?

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I enjoy reporting in from time to time from the trenches of making a big personal change. At my current stage, here’s what I’ve learned:

My instincts of behavioral response right now are really kind of terrible.

What do I mean exactly? And what does this mean in practice?

Well, on the bright side, my gut instincts are actually coming along very nicely. I’ve gotten used to paying more attention. I’ve gotten used to noticing my feelings and impressions as they’re happening and remembering them for later. I’ve changed the criteria for what constitutes healthy and awesome behavior. All of this is great.

And when I have time to reflect, I do quite well. I understand basic principles. I can figure out what I’m okay with and what I’m not okay with. I practice saying no successfully. I can think through a situation and assess what’s going on, and then I can figure out how to communicate my boundaries. When I’m concerned, I have friends I trust with whom I can sanity check and get advice on the subjects on which I need guidance. I get support when I need it. I sometimes take a bit of time to get back to someone, but I’m usually okay taking the time I need. Again, all great.

Photo Credit: bernat... via Compfight cc

Photo Credit: bernat… via Compfight cc

But when I get put on the spot, well, I don’t want to say it all goes out the window, but if I’m going to slip up, that’s when it’s going to be. Being tired or hungry or sick doesn’t help either, but the hardest thing of all for me right now is when I find myself in a situation that requires an instant response. Especially if there is additional pressure being brought to bear. I usually know it feels off, but I often can’t figure out how to react. Or I attempt to say no or set a boundary, but when that is countered or rebuffed, I don’t persevere.

And my core instinct of behavior, I’m sorry to say, is to not rock the boat. I want to smooth things over, I want everyone to get along, I don’t want to be involved in a prolonged conflict, and I don’t want to find out if me setting this boundary will result in disrespectful behavior from whomever I’m with. It’s important that I DO find out, don’t get me wrong, but to be honest, it’s pretty depressing when that happens. And sometimes it seems so much easier to just … go along with things. I can and do fight that instinct, but when I’m not sure what the right thing is to do, that is the instinct that is ready and waiting for me to fall back on.

One solution to this problem is to do my best to get myself the time I need. “I’ll get back to you” and its variants are my new best friend phrases, and the more I use them or even just think them, the more quickly they will spring to mind when I need them. Even “I don’t know” can occasionally be helpful. And of course, many methods of communication have a convenient delay built right into them.

Unfortunately, some situations really do call for a more immediate response. Ferrett talked about one such example recently. And he’s totally right in that shock/surprise makes it really hard to respond mindfully, and future modelling does help prepare for a wide variety of situations. If I can anticipate an event, then I can prepare a response ahead of time. (Whether or not I’ll actually be able to deliver it, of course, is another matter.) However, anticipating every situation is ultimately impossible (and sometimes overly stressful as well), so I hope that eventually I’ll be able to build a new core instinct that does a better job of helping me stand up for myself when that is necessary.

I thought this would be interesting to write about because I don’t read articles very often about the difficulties of making these kind of changes when you’re right in the middle of one of them. But I have an ulterior motive: I figure it’s a good thing for people to know about me. I do better right now when I’m given time. So that is a gift you can give me that will be deeply appreciated.

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When I first started blogging seriously back in 2010, I read so many blogs. I wanted to see what other people were doing, and I wanted to get ideas of what to talk about, and I followed lots of blogs from which I read almost all the entries.

Then at some point I stopped. I can’t remember if it was early this year, or sometime last year, but I do remember I was falling behind and I decided to take a break to catch up with life. And then I found I wasn’t missing most of the blogs I read, so I never came back to my blog reading in the same way.

Nala also doesn't read many blog posts. But she does have incredibly fluffy paws!

Nala also doesn’t read many blog posts. But she does have incredibly fluffy paws!

I still read a few blogs regularly. I read my friend Rahul’s blog because he is always making interesting observations and giving great book recommendations. I read my friend Ferrett’s blog because he is always doing strange things and giving great insight on social interactions. I read Theodora Goss’s blog because I feel like she’s teaching me how to lead a modern fairy tale life. I read Captain Awkward because I went so long wishing for an advice column that actually gave healthy advice and now I have one and it is so interesting and sometimes applicable to my life.  I read Nick Mamatas’s blog because he’s such an iconoclast online and that is fascinating to me. (Also, iconoclast was my new vocabulary word last week! I would probably pronounce it wrong if I tried to say it out loud.) I read Stina Leicht’s Feminist Mondays because she compiles a great list of links and backs them up with relevant commentary.

Other than that, I check in on an economics blog a few times a week, and I click on posts that people share with me on Twitter and Facebook. I’m more likely to click on said links if they’re for essays by Kameron Hurley and Robert Jackson Bennett or if they’re on io9 or if they’re shared by Mary Anne Mohanraj or Juliette Wade, but I end up clicking on all kinds of stuff.

I stopped reading some blogs because they got repetitive. I stopped reading other blogs because it was obvious the blogger was pretty messed up, which was compelling at first but then eventually mostly made me feel tired. I stopped reading most writing advice because most of it I either already knew or had nothing to do with me. I cut back on book blog reading because I’m so far behind on my to-read list (although I am hoping to catch some of the Book Smuggler’s Smugglivus this month because I do love year-end lists and reflections, what Rahul calls wrap-up season).

I still hear writers saying that they should really start their own blogs, but now I tend to respond, “Well, if you think you’ll like it.” Because it’s becoming more and more clear to me that blogs are driven by having a unique voice, just as much good fiction is. But I don’t think having a unique voice for one of those things necessarily means you’ll have it for the other. I mean, there might be some correlation, I don’t know. What I do know is that the short essay, suitable for most blogs, is its own form and as such, requires study and practice. So if you aren’t compelled to write it, I don’t know that there’s a strong argument for doing so anyway.

As we all know, I am compelled to write in this form, and all of this does beg the question of my own blogging. “What if I’m getting boring?” I wailed to my friend this weekend. He obligingly told me I wasn’t getting boring, thus proving his awesome quality of friend supportiveness, but it’s a question that is always in the back of my mind. That being said, none of the blogs I’ve stopped reading seem to be in any jeopardy, so I suppose the answer is that readers cycle in and they cycle out, and that’s as it should be.

I don’t miss the blogs I no longer read, but I do on the whole still enjoy blogs with a strong sense of voice. Perhaps I’ll stumble across some different ones that will enchant me all over again.

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I’ve written this blog post so many times in my head, and every time I end up crushing it into a metaphorical paper ball and throwing it in the trash. Because every one of them ends up sounding as if I think I know what it’s like.

And if there’s one thing I know, it’s that I DON’T KNOW.

I don’t know what it’s like to be the target of racial slurs.

I don’t know what it’s like to worry that my child might be killed because of the color of his skin.

I don’t know what it’s like to be pulled over because of what I look like instead of how I was driving.

I don’t know what it’s like to be discriminated against not just because I’m a woman, but also because of my race and class.

I don’t know what it’s like, as a person of color, to try to break into a publishing industry that is hugely white and for the most part doesn’t see the problem with that.

I don’t know what it’s like to see someone who looks like me be the first one to die in movie after movie.

I don’t know what it’s like to be demonized for my skin color.

I don’t know what it’s like to know I’m three times more likely to be killed by police.

I don’t know what it’s like to be frightened enough to seriously look into emigrating from the United States.

I don’t know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of a never-ending stream of racially related micro-aggressions, day after day after day.

I don’t know what it’s like to have one of the big moments of my career marked with a stereotypical joke about my race.

I don’t know what it’s like to have people assume I’m violent or aggressive or stupid before I take a single action or say a single word.

I don’t know what it’s like to receive a longer or harsher sentence than a white person would have received for the exact same crime.

I don’t know what it’s like to see the KKK in action and to know its members would be totally behind a world in which I was merely property. Or dead, even though I’ve never done anything to them.

I don’t know what it’s like to have no choice about dealing with the problem of racism in the United States.

I don’t know what it’s like to live in a country with a history of seeing my ancestors as animals, of counting my ancestors as each only three-fifths of a white person, of thinking the slavery of my ancestors was morally okay, of lynchings and segregation and dehumanization and murders of those of different racial backgrounds.

I don’t know what it’s like. All this and so much more.

*

What do I know?

I know that racism is an easy thing for a white person like me to ignore. I know I can choose to remain ignorant without huge consequences. I know I can avoid the discomfort of looking at my own privilege. I know I can pay lip service to being a decent human being by saying race is invisible to me. I know I get to be outraged and not simultaneously deeply afraid. I know I don’t have to be courageous, that I can say nothing and probably no one will be upset with me and maybe no one will even notice and it’s not like my life is made personally unbearable if the systemic racism in our country isn’t addressed.

But I choose NOT to ignore the realities of racism in our country and in our world. I choose to practice my empathy. I try to educate myself instead of placing the burden of my education on others. I donate to the #weneeddiversebooks campaign, and I implement my own reading project to increase the diversity I’m exposed to in the books I read. I try not to say anything too ignorant or hurtful, and I prepare for the possibility of me screwing up, so maybe when that time comes I’ll have the grace to apologize well and make the amends I can. I try to be a safe and supportive person. I listen. I listen some more. I listen even when I don’t understand. I listen as much as possible because I know I don’t know, and because listening is a way of legitimizing voices that have gone too long unheard. And this is, quite frankly, not very much. But it is a beginning.

I want to be very clear about my thoughts. I don’t have to know what it’s like living without white privilege to know racism is a big problem in this country. I am not okay with this status quo. I support change with all my heart, and I believe that change is possible. I believe we as a nation can be better than this. The path to change will continue to be long and difficult, but it is a path I believe in and support.

I hope I will see you there on that path with me.

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