GROWING THINGS HAS NEVER been my forte. I’m great at starting out, and get very excited about beginnings. I can even handle endings pretty well, although that’s more from experience than desire. But I am somewhat less good at maintenance—the fuzzy middle of projects and ideas. But this weekend, as I picked my way through our lemon tree and grabbed another haul (our third or fourth this year) I realized that maybe I was looking at it wrong. The middle is just where beginnings and endings meet, over and over and over. And you get to keep harvesting all the time.
I’m still attempting to catch up on my reading pace after it was almost demolished by the pandemic. Enjoyed Abi Daré’s The Girl With The Louding Voice (which broke through after winning a competition for the best unpublished manuscript, and I can imagine why.) Closely read (or re-read) Ruha Benjamin’s Race After Technology, and I’m just about to finish, on my son’s insistence, Natboff! One Million Years of Stupidity. We’ve really enjoyed the whole Mr Gum series, and I am envious of the freedom and stupidity of Andy Stanton’s writing for kids.
My stories this week: Coming back from vacation straight into magazine-issue-closing territory meant limited public output. Both of the stories I put out revolved around conspiracy theories, which seem to be rising in importance as the election draws nearer: Abby Ohlheiser on whether it’s too late to stop QAnon, and if not what it would take; and Joan Donovan on the conspiracy-driving nature of social media.
Going to keep it short this week.