People have written me replies telling me I have to get a tip jar. I'm not sure if I've just done this. I went to the FAQ section for instructions, but they aren't very clearly written, or they assume a certain familiarity with Daily Kos mechanics that I haven't achieved yet. I have recommended a couple of replies. I want to be sure I observe the etiquette here because I'm hearing from such nice, helpful people. I want to be a good Kossack.
That out of the way, I want to write this diary about why I chose writing-related work for my livelihood.
I'll preface this by making a defiant statement, given the current spirit of meanspiritedness in this country toward anyone who is struggling:
When a person does all the right, honorable things--when they apply themselves and work hard; when they're tenacious, responsible, honest, resourceful--when they do all of that, they have the right to reasonably expect that they'll have a decent chance at thriving in life. They have the right to expect that they'll be able to afford housing, competent and decent medical care, first-hand clothing, transportation, vacation time each year, some disposable income, among other rewards. If they do all those right, principled things and they suffer ruin because of events not of their doing and not their fault, they also have the right to reasonably expect that society will lend them a helping hand back up again.
I had to get that out of my system. I've got a very strong sense of justice, and it rattles my cage every time I see or read another story about someone whose life is laid to waste because they or a loved one suffers a medical crisis or some other faultless calamity. I mean, seriously. How do we call ourselves a just, humane people when we turn our backs on so many decent Americans?
On to my topic. I was aiming for a livelihood in some kind of writing or writing-related work from my adolescence. That was partly because I earned high grades in English class and my teachers remarked often about my writing skills. Besides that, I've just always loved to write. I've loved to play with words, and I've always admired authors who craft stories with words skillfully.
But I had a defining moment with it around 1989. I'd picked up contract work, paid by the article, to do feature writing for a local newspaper. My editor assigned me an article about obsessive-compulsive disorder in children. At the time, awareness about the disorder wasn't what it is now. I interviewed pediatric psychiatrists and other professionals; they told me that the disorder has its roots in a chemical imbalance in the brain, and that a course of talk therapy and medication is very effective in easing the symptoms of OCD. I wrote up my article, and it was published.
I thought no more about it until a young woman called me at home. She'd first called my editor, who gave her my number. The woman told me that she had a little boy of about 8 suffering with OCD. She said that she'd suffered terrible guilt over his condition for years, certain that bad mothering on her part had brought on the disorder. She thanked me for writing the article, and told me that I'd ended years of guilt on her part. She was immensely relieved to read that her son's OCD was not her fault.
My first thought after I hung up the phone was, okay, getting established in writing will be worth a struggle. The great power of words hit home to me; if I learned to fashion writing skillfully with words, I would have the power to inspire, inform, challenge, entertain, and comfort people.
The despots of the world recognize the power of words, too. That's why they try their level best to deprive us of our words. We can see it in the tactics of the Bush administration; we saw it in Czechoslovakia in the 20th Century, where the Czech people had to have a license to own a typewriter. We see it in China's blocking of web sites they find threatening to their power.
I'm diligent about using words honorably. Few offenses outrage me more than the abuse of words so endemic in the Bush administration. I fear that Americans--in particular, impressionable young people--have been fed such a steady diet of lies and dishonesty by the Ministry of Propaganda that they cannot distinguish honest from dishonest words. The only weapon I can think of to use against the lies is to answer them with honest words. And do it while we can still do so in this country without facing ominous consequences.