Dear Writer,
I have a problem with letter closings. They’re essentially disingenuous; at least to me.
“Yours always.” First, don’t give away possession of your self to anyone, ever, even insincerely, and always is a really long time. Be very, very sparing with your alwayses.
“Sincerely.” I should hope so. Also, sounds cold.
“Best.” Please. “Best” is the “bless your heart” of correspondence. It’s what you say when you don’t care enough to say, “Now, off you fuck.”
So as I was pondering the sign-off for these letters to you, I thought about one of my go-to lines about storytelling.
“Story is power, and we don’t leave power on the table.”
I like that. It’s true and catchy. Awesome.
But then, when I was thinking about these letters, I thought, “Don’t leave power on the table. Don’t leave anything on the table.”
For decades, I’ve been doing 12 things at a time, all of them half-assed. It started when the kids were small and just snowballed from there because there was never enough time or enough energy or enough money. I had to do 12 things at once because one at once just wouldn’t cut it.
Except writing. When I write, I am whole-assed, to extend an awkward metaphor. I am focused. During those times, all the shattered and scattered parts of me pull together and live in the act of writing.
Even when I’m writing crap. :)
I leave nothing on the table. I write with
Everything,
L