In the middle of day 2 of The Great Write-Off, I once again find myself dazzled by the up close and personal look I'm allowed into my subjects' lives.
I explore the journals of a thoughtful, prolific young woman, now deceased. When she ponders why bad things happen to good people--and concludes "Why shouldn't they? Bad things happen to everyone"--my heart is heavy.
For the play I just wrote for the ex-prisoners, I find myself emailing questions like, "So did you finish the fifth of gin before you stabbed him?"
And this is how I prefer life to be, by the way. We should, all of us, enter into each others' lives as we can and see fit.
(Only one day left to donate to the cause. If I secure a couple hundred more dollars by tomorrow afternoon, I win a private meeting with one of my favorite authors, Dave Eggers. On my husband's birthday weekend. He's cool with it, though, so please help if you can.)