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2001-08-11 / 4:04 p.m. ~Reading a really good writer makes me realize I can't write at all~ I've been trying to read all of Bathsheba's diary, at least get to the point where I find out how she met this man with whom she is so in love, now, and it's taken me back to last year, first a year ago, then October, and I'm reading and reading, and it's a book, of course, I'm reading the Bathsheba memoirs, but it's on my monitor instead of on paper, and the more I read the more inadequate I feel, which is not all that bad, and certainly not all that necessary, but it makes me realize that I am no writer. I can only observe others doing what they are good at, for I am good at nothing. Not really. If you wonder what I am talking about, read this entry of Bathsheba's. Her vocabulary, her command of language, her obvious uber intelligence is astounding. I am overwhelmed and totally envious and feel I never want to write again if I can't write as well as this. A diary does not have to be crap-filled rants, childlike and petty observations, it can be something grand and amazing. She is amazing. Why she came here, to diaryland, to sort out her life, here, instead of just being her great self is a mystery, but she did, and I encourage anyone who is wasting time reading this garbage here to go read HER instead. But, be prepared to actually READ. She writes and writes and writes, each entry is a book, each one a thing to savor. Start at the beginning and work your way through to today. Cost of the War in Iraq
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