Dude the other night told me that 21st c Ireland is a utopia - no one here is really poor anymore, because he knows poverty, he's been to Africa. Ugh. This is why I do not tell people what I research.
I've been man-splained all my life... by my father, my brother, and my soon-to-be ex-husband. Enraging me beyond words. It's taken me a long time to find this word, and it's perfect, and it makes me understand my rage, which is a step closer to controlling it.
I am teaching William Morris's utopian novel News from Nowhere next week. I prep, in part, by reading Fiona MacCarthy's biography of the man, which is excellent. Her writing shames me for the hurried way I write these days, spewing half-digested thoughts in the deadline-propelled onrush to the next thought.