On feminism

One of Ms Magazine’s founding daughters was at Houston. She gave the impression of being embarrassed to have a mother who had so harmed the earth as to create Ms. Magazine, an impression of ambivalence instead of pride. I was a young feminist at the beginning then gave up thinking about it for a long time. I wanted to write short fiction, and I wanted my characters to remind readers of real and colorful and interesting people, not to be mouthpieces for a viewpoint. Now I go back to it -- when human rights are abridged, characters can go along inside it.

Ironically, since I don't get along with women as well as I used to, going to feminism again is like creating old friendships with people I've never met. Women act brusquely. I'm not mistaken about it; I just don't know what is causing it because I am open to them, for example, at church. Our transsexual is the prima donna there, and she is a "jealous female." I try to stay as open as possible to every type of person, but I doubt being the male-most-revered-female IS feminist. She thinks "like a woman" so she, like the rest of us, copies other women. Her boobs are bigger than mine (of course). What does she really know about being average?

True, I knew famous writers, but I am reluctant to put that on the table, since writers are actually like turtles and they hide. They want to be known past their deaths -- they are introverts who demand public attention.

I've gotten two great pieces of writing advice in the past two weeks, both from women I met or knew well, and it directs me in what I am doing -- so it is amazing. The two pieces of advice were (are): 1.) always ask why you are telling the reader something and 2.) cut unnecessary words.

Cutting unnecessary words is more a reminder than new advice, and it's intensely difficult to realize at times what unnecessary IS -- if you cut too much, you realize writing is unnecessary -- and some repetition is needed for music, rhythm, and kindness. Exact word counts are good for discipline.

Last year -- more than a year ago now -- the geo. prof. wanted someone to clean his huge house and to work the farm and for me to give up my ambition to return to basic college teaching. We sparred a little over it, our time together was brief, and he probably kept searching for someone and had a good or a lonely year. He was so busy in his life, he was too busy really to get lonely, but even busy people get lonely deep-down. I rebelled against what he was looking for since my mother was emphasizing housecleaning far too much, and the least humane people in the suburbs I had met did that -- thought everything revolved around perfectionist cleaning.

I believe cleaning is a normal action to take, and it's needed; a clean place cheers people up. It got maligned, and world fights ensue over it. Cleaning is gentle. I began to think about cleaning more -- I don't want to be one of the perfectionists.

Cruelty in perfectionists is related to feminism, because those women are women's antagonists and dislike women -- that type only likes her own son for what power it gives her. The son may be any type, but to her he has value and daughters do not, and also that type of woman competes with other mothers. They want to press you into stupid service for them because they gave birth to a son, and you didn't. They don't recognize your education.