Dressed for Success?

I have a friend who is awesome (yes, Alicia, it’s you), and who knits. A few months ago, she wrote about taking some scarves she’d knitted out with her, planning to leave them anonymously for people who were homeless or otherwise on the streets. Coming out of a store, she met a woman who asked her for some change, and my friend offered her a food voucher, and asked her if she’d also like a scarf.

The woman asked if she could have the purple one, and then changed her mind—there was a friend of hers at the shelter who loved orange, so could she please have the orange one instead, to take to her friend? Of course, Alicia insisted that she take both: one for herself, and one for her friend.

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Bring Them Back, And While We’re At It, Let’s Just End This.

Apologies for the lateness of this week’s path: ethic. Over the weekend and early this week, I was busy finishing a story to submit to an anthology which goal is to raise awareness and in honour of the hundreds of missing girls in Nigeria, whose story has been so prevalent in the news recently. Sales from the anthology will go to Not For Sale, an organisation which fights against slavery and human trafficking.

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Ideology and the Everyday.

I can’t quite remember the reason why Second Offspring and I were discussing inventions the other day, but it had to do with something she wanted which didn’t exist. I suggested to her that if there wasn’t such a thing, then she should be the one to invent it.

‘But I can’t do that!’ she exclaimed. ‘I’m a girl!’

You can imagine, I’m sure, what ran through my mind. How could I, a committed feminist, a strong advocate for human rights and social justice and equality of all kinds, have failed my daughter so completely? How could it be, that my second-born child feels like her sex is a barrier to anything? WHERE DID I GO WRONG?!

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See No Evil, Hear No Evil.

Confession time: I’m writing a novel.  (All the cool kids are doing it.  And by ‘kids’ I mean, people who could be doing otherwise very productive things with their time, and by ‘cool’, I mean… well, not really that cool.  Haha.)

 

Anyway. I’ve been scribbling away in my exercise book and tapping away at the keyboard, writing different scenes and going over plot holes and making notes about different points I need to research. That’s the thing when I write longer stories: I don’t write chronologically, but I do write to a general plot. Mostly. But sometimes, I get stumped. I hit an unsurpassable chasm and I have no idea how to traverse it, and so it is with the story on which I’m working now.

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