Although most of us will return to normal, we will mourn for the injured and the fallen. But selfishly we will also mourn our former selves. We are no longer the people who went blithely to Boylston yesterday.
Whatever subjects we choose, as women writers we are cataloging historical and cultural events in ways that go far deeper than the two-dimensional stories told by photographs. We get into the heads of our audience in ways that movies still can't.
Is it really a good thing for journalism to expect reporters to be empty vessels simply reiterating information from others? This defeats the very purpose of media as fourth estate, as a watchdog of the powers that be.
The ever lovable Diane Keaton has kept herself quite busy in the past year, publishing her memoir Then Again last November, shooting her upcoming film The Big Wedding, and now partnering with Audible.com to read from Joan Didion's Slouching Towards Bethlehem.
This slender memoir -- not in richness but size -- is about food, love, loss, the Harvard-heavy social structure of Cambridge; about growing up alone in a crowded room; and about the lessons that pass from mother to daughter.
Caitlin Flanagan goes there -- the third rail of women talking about other women -- the kind of stuff we lower our voices to share -- she goes after Joan Didion's portrayal of herself as a mother. With all due respect.
I once slept with a man because he gave me a copy of Murakami's The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle. Before you judge me, read the book. It's lyrical and seductive and changes the way you think about reality, about life.
In discoursing on her daughter's death -- and after having analyzed in print her reaction to a husband's demise -- Joan Didion is absolutely dealing with reality, but is she dealing with everyone's reality?