I’m supposed to be blogging about my new book every day, talking about the publishing process, priming my readers for a deeply personal memoir, but the new president keeps freaking out everyone in my world.
The journalists and social scientists and political analysts I’ve come to trust over the years are reading like dystopian literature since the inauguration. No one knows what to do, but everyone agrees we must do something.
Meanwhile, social media is overrun with trolls who twist you into empty semantic debates, then insult you when you get frustrated and walk away. People who are still willing to admit they voted for this mess are acting like their team won the big game. And my publisher wants me to be a leading voice, a guiding light through this mess for my readers.
He wants me to find the poetry in this shit storm. That’s my writing assignment going forward. No joke. Here goes nothing.