2014 has clearly not been my Year of the Blog. Not that there hasn’t been a lot to write about. If anything, there’s been too much.
In the wider world, the very real tragedy and hyped-up panic of Ebola. Injustice in Ferguson and Staten Island. Children murdered, Earth’s climate gone haywire, war after war after war.
There’s been good news, too. Expanding marriage rights. Thawed relations with Cuba. Greater awareness of income inequality, white privilege and sexual violence. Those might sound like bad news, but they’re hardly new, and the fact that we’re finally talking about them is progress.
Here at home, we saw momentous events, too. We said goodbye to my beloved father-in-law, and hello to our first grandchild. We spent time with family and friends, celebrated my mother-in-law’s 90th birthday, and explored rocky canyons and beautiful beaches.
I had thoughts about all of this. But when I sat down to post my thoughts here, words failed me.
Not that I haven’t been writing. If anything, I wrote more this year than I have in a long time. I wrote and rewrote picture books — about swans and pirates, bears and dreams, builders and baby brothers. Mostly, though I’ve been working on a novel – about an odious uncle, reality TV, and two girls on a mission from the Universe.
And while I’ve been writing, I’ve been waiting for the publishing world to send me good news. That has happened for me in other years, and I have considered myself very lucky. This year, though, it didn’t. So I’ll keep waiting. But mostly, I’ll keep writing. Just not necessarily here.
For me, on balance, 2014 was a good year. I hope it was for you, too. And I hope that 2015 is a good one for all of us.