…well now that I have your attention, you can follow my reading last night: first about the philosophy of love, which I thought was interesting enough, though slightly vague, and then onto this article. If I read this correctly, I just need to avoid having too much testosterone and maintain a steady supply of oxytocin (not to be confused with oxycotin) and by golly, life should be grand.

…is what I started out with when I began to think about writing a blog post tonight. Not that I’m thinking hard about this, or long, and I’m not really examining this in any great detail except for this post; however, in my quest to write at least two blog posts this month (a record so far this year), I began to read other blogs that I’ve also not kept up reading. I began to be envious at the people that are still blogging away zealously (though I think envious in a good way rather than a self-destructive envy). I also noticed there appeared to be many others that have quit or slowed to a frigid halt in blogging. Is this a trend or a symptom of social networking?

Although I’ve not been very keen on writing blog posts in the past few years, I’m not sure what I can blame this on: maybe a fast-paced job, busy family, life catching up to the time I spent dogging it. Or maybe it was social media– the endless status updates, the pictures, the comments, the politics, the blah, blah, blah. Whatever the excuse, I’ve not had the urge to withdraw from blogging, and in fact, have had the urge to write more lately–I’ve always believed that the more I write, the more I write.

I can’t say the same for social media, and in fact, they’ve made it quite easy for me to leave that space anytime I wanted to. So I did. Now I’m sitting at my kitchen table, looking out over the rain-soaked lilacs and thinking about words instead status updates.

I’ve always had a soft spot for Lillian Hellman, for any female writer that has carved their words and lived their life in the manner to which they wanted. I think I first discovered Hellman through the lens of Pentimento . I don’t remember what year, or how old I was, or how exactly I came to discover Hellman, but I loved her audacity, her ability to be herself. It was inspiring to me as a future writer to see women (not just writers, but women) doing and living how they wanted to.

I’m also intruigued by society’s reaction to strong women and of course, by book reviews, which have also had bad raps in the press and beyond. Not sure I agree or disagree with a review of a book I’ve not yet read, but I must say, I’m interested enough based on the last line of the review, to read about her. It ain’t over till it’s over and her day ain’t done.