As a way of saying a (would-be) happy birthday to Virginia Woolf, I’m re-posting this blog from June of 2012 about one of my favorite writers and the hope and strength and encouragement I gain from her writing and her legacy. I read back over my words here today, and I was struck by one sentence I wrote: “We have to believe that our blogs can be books and our books can be bought, and even if they never are, that what we do has value because it belongs to us, in this moment, and is a true record of our individual ways of seeing the world.”
Still true for me six months later. So in that spirit of faith and hope and in honoring a life that mattered, that still touches people today, I share with you again my thoughts on Virginia Woolf.
I’ve been dipping into Virginia Woolf: A Writer’s Diary on and off for several years now, since my friend Andrea gave me the book for my 23rd birthday. Andrea inscribed the book thusly:
To a true Woolf fan, who is living Virginia’s legacy by being a strong and bold woman and writer.
A strong and bold woman and writer. It strikes me how often I leave off the final two words when I’m identifying myself. When people ask me what I do for a living, I always say I’m an English teacher. I teach college writing. If they push a little further, I’ll say I’m a freelance writer, which usually means you do corporate/technical writing or journalism. But I rarely say I’m a blogger, and even more rarely do I admit to writing fiction.
My girlfriend and I went to brunch with a couple of her friends, and one of…
View original post 960 more words