a title that fits somehow?

I found out today that the teacher that helped awaken my writing brain died after his long battle with cancer.  I had him as my 7th grade English teacher and he had us write into a diary all year (letting us know that he’d only read it if we gave him explicit permission, which I of course, did, and I like to think of that as my sort of pre-OD-course in writing).  We read a bunch of books and he’d try and get us to not just read the words but to immerse ourselves into the mind of the writer so we could get a better feel for where the words were meant to take the reader.

He enjoyed my writing, and told me thusly.  He laughed as he had me read one of my things out loud to the class.

I think he just wanted his students to understand that communicating through the written word was something special, and powerful, and…treasurable.

We were given paper journals to write in if we felt like it, and he would read them (if we said it was okay) and even though I’d been sort of writing in a paper diary already it didn’t feel viable until I started writing in that paper journal.  Those babblings were for sure the precursor to my writing here.

I’ve been a bit doldrummy today, and it’s important to let one’s self feel.

I’ve typed about it a bunch already, and every keystroke makes me feel a little less sad, so that’s a pretty okay thing.

But man, losing characters can be tough, even if they’re not on the mainstage often.

Rest in peace, Mr. Milardo.