rage is pain

I was angry yesterday. I’m just getting over a bad cold and I finished The Dragon Thief on Monday, so I’m bone tired and that always makes me emotional. I figured I’d binge-watch the new season of Broadchurch to relax but the case they were trying to solve was the rape of a middle-aged woman at her best friend’s birthday party [spoilers ahead]. And the show did a really good job showing rape culture: several suspects have pornographic images of women displayed at work, teenage boys share porn at school, men stalk and harass their female employees, they cheat on their wives, they try to coerce young, subordinate women into rough sex, they steal intimate photos of underage girls and share them on social media, husbands install spyware to secretly monitor their wives. Early on in the season the male detective admits, “It makes me ashamed to be a man.” Yet when a despondent father who lost his son attempts suicide, I found myself shedding quite a few tears—and then I was angry at myself for falling for that narrative bait and switch. HE was not the victim, and because he didn’t succeed, his wife and two daughters were then left to a) care for him, and b) wonder why he didn’t think they were worth living for. The ending was totally depressing—one young man grooming a vulnerable teen to become a serial rapist—but that’s real. That’s how misogyny continues to thrive over generations. So I woke up yesterday feeling a bit out of sorts, but figured I had enough energy to run a few errands. On my way out of a shopping center I passed an elderly man perched on a ledge, and I didn’t want to make eye contact because I knew he was begging for change even if I couldn’t understand what he was saying in Spanish. And I lugged my bulky bag down the stairs to the subway, grumbling about “this place”—as in, “What’s WRONG with this place?” Why are senior citizens picking cans from the trash? Why are grandparents begging at the mall? I’m still looking for a way out, even though I know it’s cowardly to flee instead of staying to fight. There was drama at the post office because the automated machine swallowed my postage and while I was waiting for a supervisor, the man who used the machine after me took my postage—even though he must have noticed it wasn’t for the amount he paid. But I was running out of steam by then so just came home and chatted with a neighbor in my building before collapsing on the couch. I tried to decide if my neighbor should go on my very short list of “good guys.” That used to be how I’d redirect myself—“Don’t focus on the assholes; think about ‘the good ones.'” But they’re harder to find these days. I started watching Season 2 of The Crown and quickly realized THAT was a mistake. More “men behaving badly”—and more hurt and humiliated women “making the best of it.” So I turned it off and finally sat down to write my guest post about Logan. And, as expected, I was sobbing by the time I got to the end. I wiped my tears, blew my nose, and immediately started to write but then had to stop, take my glasses off, and really let loose. I usually have two good cries per year but I’m not sure I’ve had one since the election. Instead I stayed busy and wrote and wrote and wrote…I need to set a new writing agenda for 2018 but I crossed a lot of projects off my list this year because Rome is burning. Everything feels urgent. My inbox keeps filling up and I’m grateful that people want to book me for 2018 but it’s hard to focus on the future. I want to disappear for a while. I usually try to write over the holidays. Maybe this year I’ll tackle that unfinished dystopian novella. I’ve written the half told from the female twin’s point of view—now it’s her jerk brother’s turn. Can I write without projecting all my rage/pain onto that male character? I don’t know. Guess there’s only one way to find out…

Wrote most of my guest post last night but will finish that up today and share the link once it’s live—even if it is a hot mess. A friend’s coming over to bake tonight, and I’ve got Xmas tunes playing with my little silver tree glowing nearby. Haven’t been craving sweets lately—didn’t even get cake as a reward for finishing The Dragon Thief! But maybe I’ll get some pizza today and find something “light” on Netflix that makes me feel a bit better about the world…