writers block can be a real issue for anyone who writes, whether that’s books, articles, blogs, or talks. Anything that involves you having to translate the myriad wonders of your mind, into simple words that you can put on a page is bound to be tricky isn’t it?
Yesterday afternoon I finished Small Great Things by Jodi Picoult, a huge book that I decided to listen to via audio book to save myself a carpal tunnel episode. As with all Ms Picoult’s books the story tackles a moral dilemma, that challenges the reader, and encourages a change of minds – several times – over the length of the book, and it has a surprise ending.
This book deals with race, and racism, and I don’t mind admitting that it made me uncomfortable in places; no, I don’t see myself as a racist in any way, but then I don’t have to, as one of the characters points out, because I am white.
Having been brought up that there is good and bad in all people regardless of skin tone I have always said ‘I don’t see colour’, but I will never say that again because it is b***s***. I know which of my friends are from different ethnic groups to me, pretending to think everyone is the same is really an unintentional insult to our differences.
A shopping trip to buy a new bra couldn’t have explained it better – I was hunting around until I found what I was looking for, “this is perfect, they call it skin tone” Janet looked at the peachy heap in my basket and said in a wry voice “not my skin tone”.