2014 and 2015: Thoughts, plans, and thank you

I’m going to do an unusual post, without writing content; I apologize if that bothers anyone. But this is on my mind.


“I’ve figured out what makes you tick,” my dad said to me late one night when I was home visiting for the holidays. “Money doesn’t matter to you.”

“I don’t care about money,” I agreed with a grimace while he continued to talk. “It’s crap.”

“You care about what interests you. What gets your mind going–cultures and languages and making connections with other people.”

And, it’s true. I really don’t care about money. I would love to win the lottery mostly so I could give the majority of it away, and the bit I’d keep would just be to get me out of debt and let me live with moderate comfort while I write the rest of my life, and also so I could keep a bit aside to make sure my dog always has the best medical care available with a fund. If I could, I’d like to always be able to give for free everything I write, everything I do. When I was younger, my family saw that I liked to write and somehow I wrote it in honor of other people. My grandpa’s death, my grandma’s death, my cousin’s wedding… At one point IĀ got commissioned to write poetry for my cousin’s graduation, and when I realized my aunts were going to try to pay me for it I was aghast.

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