Would-Be Fantasy Writer

The Wheel of Time book series has apparently inspired as well as created a couple of generations of fantasy writers. Although I have never been able to get into any of those other stories (the books may have been inspired by Robert Jordan, but their worlds and their writing styles fall vastly short of his example), I can understand the urge to create one’s own world. I’ve thought about it myself, perhaps continuing the story I began in Bob: The Right Hand of God. Although Bob: The Right Hand of God is a stand-alone novel, it does seem to lend itself to a sequel since anyone born into that re-made world would have to start developing a new civilization (or not), but I don’t have any interest in writing the sequel. To me, the interesting part of the story was the de-creation of life on Earth as we know it. Anything further seems as if it would be just a ho-hum book. A been there, read that sort of thing.

So, if not Bob: The Right Hand of God, then what? Create a whole new world and culture as so many fantasy writers do? I considered that possibility, thinking a world of my own would be a place to escape to in my own head if not in fact but, though I hate to admit any failing, I don’t have the imagination for such an undertaking. (Although I’ve written two novels that could be considered fantasy, both took place more or less in our own world.) Nor do I need to live any more in my head than I already do. Besides, the truth is, so-called real life is fantasy enough for me.

There are theories that all time exists at once, so we are living our past and our future at the same time we are living in the present. My very first book, the terribly written one that no one will ever see (mostly because a few months ago, in a fit of decluttering, I threw away the only copy of the manuscript), was the story of two people who meet and fall instantly into if not love, then an incredibly deep connection, only to find out that they are reincarnations of each other. My question (and hence the premise of the book) was that if everything exists at once and if there is any validity to reincarnation, could this happen? There is an obscure theory that we are all reincarnations of one another. That not only is there a single electron that moves so fast and through so many dimensions and quantum processes that it creates the entire universe (or even multiple universes), but that there is also a single soul that we are all part of. (Yeah, I read weird stuff, which is inevitable when one reads almost anything almost all the time.)

Other theories say we are creating the world as we live it, that nothing exists yet but possibilities we haven’t yet encountered or envisioned. Other theories suggest that everything exists in our thoughts, that we are thinking into reality the world we live in. The reason we are such a mess is that everyone is thinking of different things and wanting different things. If everyone thought of the same thing at the same time, then that thing would come into fruition. Of course, the chances of that happening are nil since whenever you have even just three people together, one will always be thinking of something else, daydreaming or disagreeing or whatever goes on in people’s heads, and the other two will be saying they are thinking of the same thing, but that thing could be completely different for each of them. (For example, if they are trying to envision an apple, one might see a green apple, another red.)

Am I getting too silly here? Well, not too silly for a fantasy writer, but except for Bob: The Right Hand of God and Light Bringer, I probably will never be a fantasy writer. Probably will never write another book, either, but who knows. I could get bored with the books that currently exist and need to occupy my mind another way.

 

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

 

Point of View

The Wheel of Time culture shows me exactly why people can’t agree politically on . . . well, on anything.

By Wheel of Time culture, I don’t mean the various cultures in the books, though there are many, but the real-life culture surrounding the books. There are hundreds of websites devoted to discussions of the books, many websites that offer encyclopedias of Jordan’s world, other sites that offer snippets from Robert Jordan’s notes showing the development of his ideas and that sometimes include answers to questions fans ask (his answer most often is, “read and find out,” though sometimes he does elucidate). There are also companion books to the series that offer more information on characters, motivations, glossaries, a dictionary of his made-up language, explanations of things that don’t show up in the books like outlying cultures that have little to do with the story and things that Jordan never wanted people to know.

His subtlety (which it seems he prided himself on) is such that often there is no way to find the truth in the books themselves. In one case, we don’t find out who killed a particular bad guy until we see it in the glossary of the following book. I understand that he wants people to think about the issues and the happenings in the books, tries to get them involved in his world, and accords them the intelligence to be able to fill in vague lines. (The person who finished the series after the death of Jordan had no subtlety, no granting readers a modicum of intelligence, and explained every little detail.) I can also understand an author wanting people to figure things out on their own, such as Frank R. Stockton did in his 1882 story, “The Lady or the Tiger,” but at times it also feels a bit like a cheat. If it’s important, it should be in the books somewhere. If it’s not important, it shouldn’t be treated as if it’s some sort of mystery. (Though as Jordan admitted once in an interview, he was surprised when these — to him — throwaway incidents garnered much discussion.)

Still, as long as I can find out the information I want by checking online sources, I don’t really care that much if such particulars aren’t in the books since I certainly can’t remember every single detail of a 4,000,000 word story. I often end up checking on characters who showed up again after 1,000,000 words and I needed a refresher on who they were and what they had done. Sometimes if I can’t find an explanation for a certain minor point in any of the encyclopedias, I end up reading various discussions to see if any reader had figured it out.

All this to explain why I get caught up in other people’s opinions of the various aspects of the books.

It makes sense, of course, that people would have disparate opinions about the unsaid bits, but what’s really interesting to me is even when the story is explicitly laid out, when the characters’ actions are visible to everyone, when the motivations are obvious, that readers all see something different and are vocal about defending their point of view.

And this is just a story. The words are static. There are no edited versions of the sentences making them seem to say what they didn’t say, no edited videos making us see a different version of the action. It’s all right there in the books. And yet, the interpretations are wildly different. Some people hate a couple of the characters because their plot line goes on and on and seems to accomplish nothing. Other people love those characters and hate other characters. That makes sense to me. Some people even hate the main hero while loving the books, which doesn’t make sense to me, but it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s about preference.

But misinterpreting the story? Seeing what isn’t there? Not seeing what is there? That doesn’t make sense to me since we all have access to the exact same words. I suppose it’s possible that it is I who is misinterpreting the story, since after all, I am totally the wrong demographic (older by decades!) but even that would prove my point, which is . . .

Hmm. What is my point? I suppose it’s that if people can’t even agree on what they are seeing in a book series, can’t agree on what is right and what is wrong when it matters little, it’s easy to see why there is no agreement about what is best for us individually and ultimately the country.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

The Lord of Chaos

In the Wheel of Time book I’m reading now, the story starts off with one of the bad guys being summoned before the head bad guy (not a guy, exactly, but a cosmic dark force that’s the opposite of the Light). The head guy gives his minion many directions, which we are not privy to, except for the last: “Let the Lord of Chaos Rule.” At the end of the book, this same bad guy again goes before dark force and asked if he did good. The Dark One lets out a loud laugh.

All through numerous rereads, I never could understand what the bad guy did because except for the beginning and very end, he’s practically invisible throughout the book.

But then, I never paid attention to the reason things happened in the book but the obvious since they seemed to be isolated actions taken by various characters. This time, I’m looking at the things that happen, thinking perhaps they are the result of the dark side’s behind-the-word machinations. And now it’s obvious.

The “lord of chaos” comes from the real Medieval and Renaissance New Year’s tradition of upsetting the class system, where the peasants become the rulers and rulers pretend to be peasants. The person chosen to be the “lord” of this celebration was called the Lord of Misrule or the Lord of Chaos, and was often the least competent person around, adding to the hilarity. (Perhaps that’s why the Dark One laughed at the end of the book? Finding the chaos his edict created hilarious?)

During the book, a shepherd (the hero who is meant to fight the dark force during the last battle) leads nations. (He doesn’t become king for another 500,000 words or so.) A blacksmith and a gambler command vast armies, a juggler becomes a wise mentor, queens become maids, an untried girl is chosen to lead the women wielders of power. (She was chosen as a puppet, and the only reason this particular chaotic bit doesn’t have the desired effect is that the dark minions completely underestimated her lust for power. Once she gets it, she grabs hold, and never lets go until it finally kills her.)

Often the bad guys play both sides. For example, it’s minions of the dark that have the hero kidnapped and tortured, but also, minions of the dark that save him. Chaos, indeed! (Create chaos, but in the end be sure to let the Lord of Chaos live so he can rule!) We don’t find out until later that some of the people that are supposed to be on the side of the light are actually on the other side, which adds to the chaos. These people might have their own orders, or they might be victims of compulsion, or they could simply be incompetent, all of which adds to the chaos.

Besides, no one knows the truth, though all characters, all factions, believe they do know what is true. The hero is the devil. The hero will destroy them. The hero needs to be killed. The hero needs to be controlled. The hero needs to be protected until he is delivered up to the Dark One at the Last Battle. The hero needs to be put in prison. Very few people ever stop to realize that the hero is doing what he must, that if he’s imprisoned, he will never grow into what he needs to become in order to win (which could be what the dark side wants, but the light also wants the imprisonment because they don’t believe he will voluntarily do his duty), and despite the very large disparities of belief, they all act with utter conviction.

Do you see where I am going with this post? (Minus the hero bit, that is.) Although the book was written thirty years ago, it seems (spookily) as if I am reading an allegory of our times. In a world of short-form content and edited video clips, it seem as if very few people take the time to delve deeper into the background (or foreground) of events to try to find out the truth. Everyone sees what they believe is true and they act on it because for them, it is the truth. It’s as if we’re living in two distinct worlds where there is no overlapping, so while both sides can be saying the same thing (“the opposition is ignorant,” for example) and both can be acting according to their honest beliefs, they both mean completely different things and have completely different results.

Let the lord of chaos rule, indeed.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Fun? Me?

Daily writing prompt
List five things you do for fun.

Five things I do for fun:

1.

2.

3.

4.

5.

Yep, that’s right — I don’t do anything for fun, don’t even know how to have fun. Even as a kid, I didn’t know how to play let alone have fun. I used to like paper dolls, but after I did the work to cut out the clothes and tried them on the dolls, that was it. I never knew what to do with them afterward. I remember once I spent hours building a small town out of paper, complete with houses and streets, but since I didn’t know what to do with it, I let my younger siblings play with my creation while I sat and watched.

(Apparently, I was born with that trait. My mother often told the tale of baby me and how my eleven-month older brother would play with my toys, and as long as he stayed by my playpen so I could watch, I was content.)

To be honest, I don’t even know what fun is, so I had to look it up. According to the Oxford English Dictionary, fun is “light-hearted pleasure, enjoyment, or amusement; boisterous joviality or merrymaking; entertainment”.

Boisterous joviality and merrymaking are not part of my makeup. I am quiet, the one sitting back and letting other people get rowdy or drink too much or “party” (whatever that is). On my twenty-first birthday, I went to a bar in Central City with a friend for my first drink, but she dragged a friend of hers along. I sat and watched the two of them get raucously drunk. Finally, I went up to the bar and started talking to the owner. Even though he didn’t know it was my birthday, he seemed to feel sorry for me, especially as all I did was order a soft drink. At one point he asked me if I wanted to see his new icemaking machine and I said yes. I know what you think: “Hey, want to come up and see my etchings?” But no. He was thrilled with his new machine, and wanted to show it off. So typical of me! (Typical, too, that I had to drive those two drunks home, stopping periodically so they wouldn’t mess up by new car with their retching.)

I read a lot, but for me, reading is not a “light-hearted pleasure or enjoyment.” I’m not sure it’s even enjoyment. It’s more of a thing I do the in the same way I breathe — as a necessity, a mechanical act that keeps me alive, something that supports calm, and keeps me centered. It’s just what I do. Sometimes, if the book is not particularly stimulating, I let my conscious mind follow the story while my subconscious deals with whatever problems I might have, or even deconstructs the story to see what the author did.

I also like to learn, but that fits in with the whole “reading” thing.

As for entertainment: the last time I had a television (until I moved here to my permanent home, I rented a room in a house that came with a television), I decided to watch Hallmark movies. I figured I’d never spring for television programming, so it would be the last time I had a chance to watch those movies. So I did. But for me, it wasn’t entertaining so much as a study in how to put together a Hallmark movie. So much time for an introduction. So much time until the meeting. So much time for the characters to get to know each other. At exactly what time the big breakup/misunderstanding occurs. And finally how long for the happily ever after ending.

Despite being a rather quiet and serious person who spends most of her time alone, I still do like to laugh and chat with friends, but sometimes days pass without my seeing anyone, especially in winter. (Sometimes it takes more mental energy than I have to make the effort. Luckily, my friends make the effort for me.) In the summer, when I am out working in my yard (again, not really fun for me, though I do like seeing the results of my work) I often visit with neighbors across the fence, in the alley, or in the middle of the street depending on where those neighbors live.

A friend posted on her blog that instead of making New Year’s resolutions or intentions, she’d heard of a different way to start the year: pick a word to be a theme for that year. Sounds nice. Maybe I should choose “fun”?

But no, if resolutions tend to set us up for failure, then trying to live up to a word that is not in my nature would set me up for even more failure.

I suppose not being “fun-loving” is something I should worry about, but I’ve lived this long without being able to list five things I do for fun, so I suppose I can live my remaining years the same way. And anyway, I’m contented, which should count for something.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Books I Want to Read

Daily writing prompt
What books do you want to read?

The books I want to read are novels with a new story (which is hard to find since it seems so many novels repeat the same old stories with minor variations) or a truly different twist on an old story. The characters in these new — or old — stories are loyal and kind, nice until it’s time not to be nice, have integrity, do their best and when they don’t succeed, try to do a better best in some way. Often these characters have a talent or skill, but the story challenges them in ways that those abilities don’t help, and in fact force them try to find ways to use their lesser abilities. (For a simplistic example, a person with great eyesight would be at a disadvantage in a lightless cave and would need to rely on their perhaps diminished hearing.)

These books are also all written with clarity and grace using words and phrases that are sometimes lyrical or out of the ordinary, but always clear and understandable.

The books are of various genres, but at their core they are all great stories with relatability and depth, a sense of wonder and perhaps a touch of strange. No category romance! And not much science fiction or fantasy, either. (A lot of fantasy starts out very confusing and quite frankly, I have enough trouble sorting out the confusion in the real world. I don’t need to bring more confusion into my life.) Some speculative fiction would be on the list of books I want to read, especially if the stories are rooted in an everyday world and only after the story is established does it branch off into extrapolated plausibility (or implausibility).

The books also keep me absorbed without nail-biting tension. Curiosity about what is happening is better for me since tension, like confusion, is something best left to the real world. In fact, if a book makes me too tense, I read the ending, and if the ending fulfills the author’s contract with the reader, giving a satisfying and fulfilling resolution (another thing that’s in all the books I want to read), I’ll go back and finish reading the book with a deeper understanding of the situation.

I’m sure there are other characteristics I’m looking for in the books I want to read, but for now, this will do.

Oh, you want the titles? If I knew the titles of such paragons of the written word, I’d have already read the books!

The truth is, although the books I want to read have all the elements I’ve just described, I read just about anything as long as it engages my attention enough to get through the first chapter. Besides, somewhere in all the sludge are gems just waiting to be found.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Pat In the Hat

Daily writing prompt
Write about your first name: its meaning, significance, etymology, etc.

A patrician during the Roman Empire was a person of noble birth, an aristocrat who had high social standing and owned a significant portion of wealth and land.

A plebian was everyone else — the ninety-five percent who did the work: farmers, merchants, laborers, crafts people, who had no rights and could not own land.

Eventually, the plebians managed to attain equal rights through protests and walkouts because a city could not survive, nor could a non-working aristocratic class survive when there were no workers to do the necessary tasks of keeping the armies marching, the cities clean, and the citizenry fed.

Still, throughout the centuries, those two words have held some sort of power. Although I was named after the patricians, I never felt “patrician.” I always considered myself to be plebian and my name ironic, though I am glad of the name “Pat.” I would not like being called “Plebe.”

Actually, I never really liked the name “Pat,” though I took that version of my name as an author name since it seemed to have a nice strong sound and connotation. I also used the name to introduce myself to new acquaintances, partly to help them find me online but mostly because I didn’t like giving my real name to strangers. (It felt as if I were giving too much of myself to people I didn’t know and perhaps would never see again.) When I was mostly nomadic, this pseudo-name didn’t matter. It only became a problem when strangers became friends, or when online connections became offline friends, and by then it was too late to change names.

My writing career, such as it was, has all but disappeared, so what I call myself doesn’t really matter, but it was the name I’d used for so long, that it seems convenient to keep it. The truth is, I no longer know what my real name is. Or if I have one. I spend so much time by myself, that there’s no need of a name. I just . . . am. (I once wanted to learn the names of birds; then it dawned on me that the names of birds were names we gave them, not the names they gave themselves, so it seemed rather a silly project. If you can’t learn the truth from the inside out, then looking from the outside in didn’t seem to gain much.)

A week or so ago, when I had just loaded groceries in my car, I heard someone call out, “Pat!” Since I didn’t associate the name with myself, it took me a moment to realize that a good friend was calling me from across the parking lot. (I recognized her voice before I realized who she was talking to.)

So, until I discover my real name, “Pat” is fine. Besides, to distinguish me from all the other Pats in this town — at least a half dozen of us — people identify me as “Pat in the Hat,” which is kind of cute. And accurate.

***

Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Emergency Library

When I was young, I often reread books, but in my middle years, I discovered I didn’t like rereading, didn’t like the echoes of previous readings reverberating in my head. Like most readers, I’d accumulated shelves of books, but when I realized I didn’t want to reread any, I gave them away. The only books I liked having on hand were those I hadn’t read, what I called my “emergency stash.”

When the quarantine hit, and the library was closed, I quickly used up my emergency stash, and ended up rereading The Wheel of Time series. I found I liked living in Jordan’s world, one that purported to be both our distant past and our even more distant future. Well, I liked the parts when they were traveling, not so much the parts when they were manipulating each other, torturing each other, bending each other to their will. When the reread seemed to work out, I started searching for other books or series I could keep on hand to reread. Although I tried, I was never able to get into any other fantasy series, could not relate to any of them. There were too many ridiculous unpronounceable names and even more ridiculous situations in never-were-could-never-be worlds, to say nothing of the often-execrable writing. I did enjoy Ender’s Game and some other of Orson Scott Card’s science fiction books, but none I wanted to re-reread.

Recently, I went through series I’d previously read, but this time, instead of picking up books haphazardly, I read them in the order they were written to get a better idea of the character’s story. Most were mysteries, most I’d read so long ago I didn’t remember the story, but none caught my imagination enough to want to ever reread again. Others were stories I once loved, such as the Mrs. Pollifax books, Dune, and The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, but although I liked the first book in all three of those series, the rest didn’t hold up to my adult scrutiny.

I did order the Noel Barber novels — I couldn’t get Tanamera, Sakkara, and Farewell to France from the library and I thought a friend would like to read Tanamera since she’d grown up in the Cameron Highlands in Malaysia. I ordered the others because at one time I’d liked them, and as it turned out, I still do.

So that’s the extent of my emergency library — Robert Jordan and Noel Barber. It turns out that no matter how much I once liked a book, few of them have the depth or sink-into-ability that I need to enjoy rereading a familiar story. It’s just as well. I don’t like having a lot of clutter, and books I don’t want to reread seem clutterish to me. I do have a stack of books about alchemy that I inherited from my brother and haven’t yet read, but I’m saving them for . . . actually, I don’t know what I’m saving them for. A time when I have the mental effort to expend on them, perhaps, but at least they are there as an emergency stash for my emergency stash.

Come to think of it, I also have the books I’ve written, but I’m afraid to read them in case I’m no longer proud of them. But someday I might read them. Or not.

Are there any books you enjoy rereading? Any you love? Any you’ve read multiple times?

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Uninventing

Daily writing prompt
If you could un-invent something, what would it be?

I spent a lot of time thinking about this question because it seems as if there should be things in our lives that need uninventing, but I can’t think of any. There are a lot of things that have far reaching ramifications that I don’t like, such as generative artificial intelligence, but since it’s a direct result of computers and the internet, if it was un-invented, it would simply be reinvented.

There are things I don’t like, of course, but I try to stay away from them. It’s easy enough to do, most of the time. Keep the computer off, put the phone on airplane mode (as I do at night since no one is depending on me, and even if there were, there is nothing I could do about it that late anyway), don’t read books published after 2022 unless I’m familiar with the author.

Even though in some form, artificial intelligence has been around since the 1960s, models for the public like ChatGPT weren’t released until late 2022, and it seems as if the writing world has gobbled up the technology. People like that they can write a book in a day! Yay! Well, yay for them, not for me. I read to connect with the author’s view of the world, to find perhaps more depth to my own world. Connecting with artificial intelligence would not be the same thing at all. I’m sure, with time, generative AI will master even the complexity of human thought and emotions, developing novels that have layers to them, but I’m not interested.

Actually, I’m not interested in most authors who were first published in the past ten or fifteen years. There seems to be an underlying nastiness to so many of them, with unreliable characters lying in their own POV about what they did and about other characters, so the reader doesn’t know and can’t guess how appalling the unreliable character is until the end when you find out they were the bad guy all along. Eek. I don’t know if this is the sort of story new writers prefer or if it’s what editors are looking for, but either way, I don’t like being left with a feeling of squalor, as if there’s a thin film of filth on my soul.

But I am getting away from the point of what I would uninvent — nothing. On the other hand, if I could get rid of some policies, that I would gladly do.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Getting Older is Strange

Getting older is strange, to put it mildly. Watching one’s body slowly change and not for the better, feeling one’s energy deplete, wondering if simple memory loss such as not remembering a word is indicative of a more severe decline.

So far, none of those issues is that great a deal for me. I’ve learned to accept my mild infirmities — the joints that don’t always work well, the cough that lingers too long, the words that elude me. One thing I have not yet learned to interpret is what to do when I have no energy — should I take it easy? Or should I . . . not?

When I was younger and had bouts of enervation, I could contribute them to allergies (my allergies were more of an energy thing than typical upper respiratory symptoms), an incipient cold, or laziness. Most times I gave in to the malaise because if I didn’t, I’d usually get sick. And anyway, I was young enough to get back into the swing of things once the feebleness passed, so if I ended up indulging my laziness, it didn’t really matter.

Now there is a fourth possibility to add to the rest: If I lack energy, is it allergies, a low-grade cold, laziness, or is it old age? If it’s one of the first three, I can treat the enervation as I always do — take it easy and indulge my laziness. If, however, the enervation is due to old age feebleness, I certainly don’t want to give in to it. Barring an accident or illness, or any other life-threatening problem, I could possibly live another decade, perhaps even two, and if I give in to sluggishness too soon, that lack of activity would cause additional problems.

I suppose one way to tell would be if the enervation came on quickly or if the energy loss came slowly over a long period of time, but even then, I get used to ignoring discomfort, so perhaps I wouldn’t notice slow moving debilitation. Besides, I’ve always been a low energy person. Throughout my years I’ve often exercised, but it’s been a push rather than a natural inclination. That’s why I read so much — it doesn’t take much energy to sit and hold and book. Even letting my thoughts wander doesn’t take as much energy as letting my body wander.

Speaking of which, the snow is gone, but I still haven’t resumed my intention of walking every day. I’ve been dealing with a low energy time, and don’t want to create additional problems by walking against the very cold wind. Brrr!

In the end, I’ll do what I always do — stop thinking about why I feel lazy and just grab a book.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.

Comfortable Clutter

Daily writing prompt
Where can you reduce clutter in your life?

The easiest place for me to reduce clutter in my life right now is to clear up my desk and worktable. Except for my office, where I spend most of my time, I keep surfaces free from clutter. I was always sort of messy, never really having the energy to do a lot of cleaning, but ever since I moved into my own house, I’ve kept everything neat and clutter-free. I like the clean lines — no photos or pictures on the walls, nothing but lamps on the side tables, books in their proper place, kitchen counters bare. I also like that people can drop by without my getting embarrassed by my lack of housekeeping skills.

My cupboards are full of kitchenware and other necessities, but I make sure that whenever I get new items, instead of further cluttering those cabinets, I get rid of an equal number of older items.

I have a lot of boxes of things stored in my garage, but they’re not exactly clutter, at least not according to the definition of clutter as being a disorganized mess — my garage is neatly organized. Still, there are many things, maybe even most things, that I will get rid of, but not yet. Too often in my life, I’ve disposed of various items, particularly materials and tools for a special project, and then later had to buy those items again. There’s a good chance I won’t use most of what I have since my project days seem to be over, but I don’t know for sure, so there the boxes sit. And anyway, the would-be clutter is out of the house so I don’t have to think about or stumble on boxes of stuff. It does help that I got rid of about half of what we owned when Jeff died and I moved in with my father, and another significant portion when my father died and once again, I had to move on. I am clearing the rest out gradually, but at the rate I’m going, I’ll be one hundred and ten by the time everything is gone, but oh, please! Don’t make me live that long!

Mental clutter is pretty much the same, with any possible issues either left in the past, neatly stored away for easy retrieval, or dumped here on this blog.

So am I going to clear up the clutter on my desk? Probably not. Everything I need is right at hand, and if there is too much clutter, well, it’s comfortable clutter, not an embarrassing mess.

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Pat Bertram is the author of Grief: The Inside Story – A Guide to Surviving the Loss of a Loved One.