Since Donald Trump’s inauguration, I’ve had difficulty finding words.
Words are my job, but when I sit down to my computer, all I want to write is FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over.
In fact, I do write FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCCKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKKK over and over, but then I delete it, and I stare at an empty computer screen.
Right now nothing feels as important to me than writing about what is currently happening in America, and even then, I cannot construct a sentence that adequately conveys my anger and fear.
Every morning I have to fight the urge to not throw away my work — I’m a freelance copywriter who also has a blog and is working on a book proposal and screenplay — to become a professional activist. I’m only grounded when I remind myself that I need to make money in order to survive.
Many of my friends in writing and film have said the same thing: Making art not pertaining to what is going (more…)