A weblog devoted to spurring a conversation among those who use words to varying degrees in their daily work. Hosted by John Ettorre, a Cleveland-based writer and editor. Please email me at: john.ettorre@gmail.com. "There comes a time when you realize that everything is a dream, and only those things preserved in writing have any possibility of being real." --James Salter
Out of Commission
I'm a Cleveland, Ohio-based writer, editor and writing coach, with more than 25 years of experience, including stints in Chicago and Washington, D.C. My work has appeared in more than 100 print and online publications, from the New York Times and the Christian Science Monitor to local and regional publications. My work has been recognized by awards (including an Emmy) from four journalism groups.
10 Comments:
Get well soon, John. So sorry. :(
Hope you're well, John. And back in commission soon.
indeed, be well.
Thanks, guys. Kind of you all to drop by.
well, what the hell happened?
Oh, so you want the gory details of my medical condition? Not sure it's terribly germane here, other than to say that I'm nearly 100% better. If you must know, it was an infection possibly tied to my kidneys. Don't you feel better now, oddjobs, being armed with that knowledge?
Mr./Ms. oddjobs apparently is appropriately monikered, but he/she does have a point. to borrow from the aforementioned's appellation, it is a bit 'odd' for a journalist-type to report "out of commission" and "hospitalized" but offer no details. Not that it's anyone's business, of course, but still, curious...
Okay, anon, you convinced me. The people have spoken. My only defense is that this venue is an odd amalgamation of things and intentions. I try to make this little bit of real estate not simply my personal notebook, where I talk about my life and work only. That would I think limit both my interest in writing it and readers' interest in reading it.
When I do talk about my personal life, I have a writerly tendency to try to connect that to some larger, more universal theme, rather than simply assuming that readers want to know more about me.
The truth, I suppose, is that the writing instinct is a blend of urges to both illustrate and obscure the details of one's life. You're right--if I were only a journalist, that mix may be easier to untangle. But I'm afraid I'm stuck with the broader self-identity of writer, with all the competing compulsions that entails.
Mostly, I just feel honored to have you as a reader.
Are you still quarantined? mfh
No, I'm now allowed to come out and play.
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