When life takes the punchline away.
I was planning to post my turn at The Next Big Thing, a Q&A of what's up with my writing. Maybe next week, after the Mayan Apocalypse.
For the last six years I've sent out a special Xmas mailer, and this year I limited myself to this simple card. It was supposed to reflect my disappointment in big projects that still haven't panned out.
But in light of a couple of tragedies, I'd be a callous lout to pretend my little tribulations really matter in the grand scheme of the universe. So except for the few cards that were mailed last week, there will be no Mario Acevedo Xmas card this year.
First, we had the shooting in Newton, CT. That news flattened what was supposed to be an upbeat weekend. My only connection to the place was that long ago I had interviewed for a job in Newton, but this senseless rampage still put a hole in my heart.
I wasn't the only one whose humor backfired. Last week the Onion published an article depicting President Obama as a paranoid gun nut
. The story wasn't that funny to begin with, and with the horror at Newton, the joke was bitterly insensitive.
Then I found out that a friend and fellow instructor at Lighthouse Writers Workshop, poet Jake Adam York
, died Sunday of a stroke. He was 40 years old.
I guess the best we can do is hang the Christmas lights, pay our respects, and continue to count our blessings.
Labels: Jake Adam York, The Onion