Writing
I
write. That's a rare constant in my life. Writing provides a
means in which to understand and assemble my inner and outer
worlds.
Journalistic
writing -- that of serving as a witness to the world,
analyzing and reporting events and people as purely as
possible -- is my natural form of writing. Fiction could
never replace reality and reality is where I prefer to be.
As a journalist, I strove to enlighten people, turn them on
to the often hidden realities in our complicated world. I
had hoped that, working together, reader and writer could
create a better place to live. There's still much to do in
terms of social justice, but now I write mostly for my own
expression. And even that expression is becoming quieter and
deeper -- and more visual in content.
The
publications listing is a minimalist accounting of projects
I have undertaken in the past five years or so. Most of it
is what I call writing for hire -- competent, precise,
craftswomanly, but it won't move you in emotion or spirit.
The excerpt from my master's project, however, has some good
writing in it. Before that were years and years of daily
newspaper reportage, some it quite good, all of it now
buried in heaps of newspaper clippings and impressions of
muted memories.