Over at Betsy Lerner’s blog, where I often am, the one and only Betsy asked about the one sentence we’d use to explain what we write. No, it’s not anywhere near the first time I’ve thought of this, been challenged to do it – there was a time I tried using one sentence more or less even within the query itself…before being advised that it was too loaded and difficult to understand (you kids just don’t know what you want, do ya) – so it must have been because it’s Betsy that I spontaneously thought of something at 2-something in the am.
“Two intelligent, talented and emotionally crippled Black women try to forge a relationship outside of their art despite the fact that one is the product of the other’s rape.”
Now that my thalamus hasn’t preemptively shut down in preparation for the sleep that would not come for at least an hour, I will acknowledge that it’s not space-mazing. (Read: it was last night, let me tell you.) Also, I’d insert the element of that forging attempt not being entirely without outside motivation.
“After being confronted with their decades-long estrangement, two talented and emotionally crippled Black women attempt to forge a relationship outside of their art, despite the fact that one is the product of the other’s rape.”
Hm. Well, see, I don’t feel like the word “talented” really encapsulates the perception of Demetra’s success or Cora’s promise. Maybe I should’ve just enjoyed feeling proud of myself last night and not brought it into the light of day. Probably that.
LATER: I totally forgot to explain my other motivation for doing that – since I got all discouraged by the coyote ugliness and all. Day before yesterday, I was asked about my writing and I did what I typically do. I heaved a huge sigh and prepared myself for a long conversation that nobody wants to have. I hate that question. Even when it’s more than mere politeness. It’s why I don’t talk about my work in mixed company. I assume the person isn’t invested in the question and I don’t wanna get invested in the answer and I probably make them regret it before I even answer with all my huffing and puffing. Like imagine asking someone – with genuine curiosity – what they’re studying. Imagine them rolling their eyes and exhaling forcefully. Right. I’m working on that. One sentence should be helpful. As long as my skin doesn’t crawl away when I consider how misleading and incomplete my answer. That’s my problem. I want to answer it completely and thoroughly or I don’t want you to ask. 🙂 See? That’s all!