and you thought this would be interesting, right?

all my deepest darkest secrets were revealed long ago. If I were to reveal them anew I'm not certain I'd chose to do so online. Instead I meant this blog to be a place for mostly rambling prewriting. It is a trial-and-error effort.
Just like actual writing.

Yet I find my own personal stuff--the people I care about, places I love, images I want to retain--imprint themselves upon my writing even if I intend it to be academic. Why is this? Why can't I separate the personal from the professional or are those distinctions blurry for a reason?

I think it is interesting that we go along looking for something interesting in other people's lives, no matter how boring they are.