To Read, Perchance to Sleep

Have I ever told you about The Wilensky News? Or Wilensky's Words? The (very original) titles of my childhood self-published newspaper and my high school newspaper column, respectively. I find myself thinking about them today as I marvel at the infinite number of ways we humans find to make ourselves heard.

In a way, it's easier for someone like me, a person who from as early as I can remember felt an impulse to write: to put my thoughts down on paper so that others could read them. And then, as I made writing first my hobby, then the focus of my studies and then the center of my professional life, the outlets for expressing myself, for connecting my ideas with other people, readers, grew.

And many, many people, some who get paid for it, others who don't, have found a way to connect their thoughts and ideas by way of the written word, to other people. But what of the people who can't or don't? There are millions of them out there, too. I have heard it said by jaded publishing professionals that everyone wants to write a book, but in my experience this is wildly untrue. Most people I know do not have this impulse, this desire, this need, and so I find myself wondering why those of who do, do, and how those of us who don't fulfill this need or if in fact they just don't have it in quite the same way.

I can always tell when I'm rusty: I skirt around ideas, never quite honing in on the center. I am not a good stream-of-consciousness writer; I ramble, falter and remain oblique. This time, I'm not even sure why this is what I am thinking about. I do feel fortunate that I have a way to say what I want to say when I need to say it, be it here, or in another format. I guess maybe I am wondering what other people do or what happens when the thoughts hit a wall?

I don't know how many words that is, although I am going to try to be stricter with myself about the 750, partly because I want to be stricter with myself in general, partly because I do think it's good to have goals. But I am going to stop regardless and let myself indulge in what used to be my absolute favorite mode of relaxation, the activity I have missed most sorely since becoming a parent. I hope you are out there somewhere, doing the same. I am going to read. Goodnight.