It was one of those end-of-year things. I was going to muse about 2013, share some photos and pieces of news I never got around to posting. Maybe talk about a few books I liked….
I even had a title for the blog, I was going to call it “New Year’s Resignations.” Which is probably the best title I’ve come up with all year.
I’ll write that blog eventually. Probably. I had some things to say, and until I write them down they won’t leave me alone.
But I’m not going to write that blog today. I can’t.
I was going through my backlog of fanmail today. Trying to play catch-up, as always. And a reader had sent me…
Ah, I’ll just show you:
There is a song by a woman named Dar Williams that always makes me think of you and Worldbuilders. I thought I would share it with you, if you have time to listen to it – just in case you haven’t come across her before. Every time I hear it, it makes me think of things you have said about Worldbuilders, and your most recent blog post about First Book made me think of the last verse, so I had to finally send the link. If you have 3 minutes for it, I think you will really like it.
Generally speaking, if someone sends me an interesting link, I’ll follow it.
So I did. And I listened to the song. And I was doing pretty well until the last verse, which hit me so hard that I felt like there’s been a hole blown straight through me.
It’s a good song, I’ll link it here for you:
After listening to that, I don’t really feel much like writing a pensive blog, the main theme of which is that I wish I were a better father, a more reliable friend, a more professional writer…. Overall, I wish I was… well… I wish I was the sort of person had his shit together. Because, generally speaking, I really don’t.
No. After listening to that song, I decided to forgo a vaguely emo retrospective blog.
Instead, I’d just like to thank all of you.
I’d like to thank you for reading what I write. I’d like to thank you for tuning into the blog. I’d like to thank you for being graceful and kind.
Thank you for making the world a better place. You make me hopeful for humanity.
That’s better than what I’d planned to write today.
That’s how I’d like to end the year.