It is time to haul out a suitcase and pack for a short trip. Although I dislike travel itself, I’m looking forward to the rest of the adventure, which will take me to beloved people in a favorite city. As luck would have it, this will also be the perfect occasion for considering what I’m doing here, on these pages. I’ve been thinking a lot about that lately, as I suspect discerning readers will have at least sensed. For the first time, I’ve been thinking that I actually know what I’m doing — that I know what it is that I am really writing about. Rather than blurt it out, however, I’ve decided to look at it from every which way, just to make sure that I’m not mistaken, and also to prepare the ground a bit, so that, when I finally do come out with it, those readers will sigh, Of course! The topic sentence will appear at the end.

Over the years, a few people have said words to this effect: You write about books, right? Wrong. When I began this Web log, I suppose that writing about books was a big part of what I was doing, but in recent years, I have drifted away from that, toward something else, where books might better be described as points of departure than as objects of inquiry. But: points of departure whither? Two weeks ago, as I was walking to the subway on my way to see The Glass Menagerie, I was assailed by the answer to that question, which I wasn’t aware of having asked. It came all unbidden, as these things so maddeningly do.

The immediate effect has been exactly that of putting on a pair of much-needed reading glasses.

For all readers who will be celebrating Thanksgiving this week, I wish a day of warmth, connection, and good food. To everyone, I send my thanks for reading. I do look forward to sitting here next Monday and getting on with it.

Drop me a line at rjk@dailyblague.com
This entry was posted on Monday, November 25th, 2013 at 11:23 am.