Thursday, February 19

we owe it to each other

yesterday, being supremely lazy and not getting out of bed until nearly noon, I finished a collection of Neil Gaiman's short stories, of which this was the first. I loved that, having been so long in love with all and any things Sherlockian. (note to self: get around to reading something, at least, by H. P. Lovecraft.) then I read the rest of the book because I hate to leave a book unfinished, even if its contents are less than perfectly captivating. many of the stories collected in Fragile Things had been published elsewhere. the book was a sort of patchwork, some of its squares more beautiful to my eye than others. I did like his poems.

and this morning, somehow, I came across a little publication called one story, to which I am mightily tempted to subscribe. I'm sure I will talk myself into it, in time.

Gaiman says, "I believe we owe it to each other to tell stories."


a lovely organic, free-spirited woman I met in Canada once told me, "When the old native tribes faced disputes over the land, each tribe would ask the other: If this is your territory, where are your stories?"

a story is many things. I always like the box metaphor. storage. a story is a place to keep things. we have a lot of things to keep. that's why there are and will always be so many stories.

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