Wednesday, May 15, 2013


I hop on my bike. The seat is familiar, but far from comfortable. My legs are tight. Great. Another thirty kilometers of tight legs. My hands shift positions- bottom loop, straight bar. I settle on the hoods. My body is warming up. I check for traffic and blow through the first stop light: I need to maintain my momentum. I take a quick right through a red stop light and I'm on River. River has a bike lane and no sidewalk. I take advantage of the extra space on the road by focusing less on balance, course and cars and more on the beginning of the day. The clouds are lightening and the sun hits the night's remaining rain drops, which are suspended on the leaves and car roofs. These send the light in a million directions and it dances as I ride toward and past.  

Monday, May 6, 2013

Writing the unknown


Writing is staying one half-step ahead of the reader en route to an unknown destination. The unknowing writer is the best guide; the reader will experience a description of each step as the writer figures it out for himself.   

The unknown is paradoxical. It is something that causes anxiety in all of us. Each one of us has been nervous about the results of an exam or worried about the future ups and downs of our jobs and debts. Even digging beneath the Christmas tree sparks a feeling of uneasiness as we examine presents and wonder what's inside.

Yet, the unknown is the only path to truth. The most meaningful questions have the muddiest answers. Is there a God? What is the meaning of life? Most of our time is occupied in the clear end of the pond as we build the next Iphone and repair our lawnmowers. Life's important questions are in the swamp.

So as the writer picks words and builds sentences, the best ones do it as they are stepping through the swamp themselves. The stories that come out of this writing lay bare the excitement, fear and regret of the new Dad and the utility and greed of the corporation, stories that show conflict and complexity. We know the truth lies in the blind and sluggish and we demand it from our writers. So we should.