Subject Matter

Our recent trip to Florida was, well, idyllic. I look back on how I’ve written about it in previous posts: red tide, red state, the humiliation of a non-flushing toilet.  

Someone might (reasonably) read what I have written and think I’m a malcontent with her knickers in a perpetual twist when really, I’m anything but.  What I am is warehouse and conduit for the mélange of observations in my brain. I also believe the heart of storytelling is specific detail. The more personal, the more singular, the better; ties to fate and untethered randomness are equally welcome. Very often the entire point starts small and unexpectedly, just as it does in actual life.

Here’s an example. Re. Florida, I could tell you about the unabashed sunsets over the Gulf, or how Sam, an intentionally laissez-faire dresser, reacted when a guy on the beach complimented him on his swimsuit.

And while I really, really wish you’d been there for those sunsets, the story I want to tell begins: “Nice bathing suit.”