This last month has gone by in a blur filled with filling out police reports and talking to school officials. I was assaulted in the school by a teacher and everything in my life changed.
Funny how one thing can change so much. I found myself re-evaluating many things including my writing. I remember watching an interview of the author of "The Perfect Storm." He'd gone into a war zone and came back feeling he no longer had the right to write about horror--he didn't feel he had adequate experience. I found myself asking the same question.
How do we know we're capturing truth if we never experience any of the things we write about or at least done a bit of living? And suddenly being assaulted is a gift in a strange way although I wouldn't ever want to experience something like this again.