Remote from the Beltway, with the sun shining and the morning delivering 72-degree perfection, I find it impossible to relate to anyone’s idealistic political battles. I know three things:
1) With the day off work, I will be writing this afternoon. My characters don’t care much about the government shutdown, but it might make a nice plot twist.
2) Someone I care about deeply called yesterday to say his liver had failed. I have no tolerance for triteness and Congress in the face of losing this special person.
3) My eldest begins the college application process today, my baby begins a fabulous new videography class. They both cannot even fathom what is happening in Washington. I hope–only hope–that their generation brings better people to Washington.
So I guess as I write, I might try to expose something of the gulf between politics in this country and real people. But I won’t dwell on that too much. Kinda seems unreal … and ridiculous. Too strange for fiction?