I seem to write mostly sad pieces. I wonder why that is.

I came to a new realization of this last week when a co-worker and I were talking. She had come to the little reading on Friday. She mentioned in passing that someone had asked about the reading. "Oh, it was well written. B. just always writes sad stories."

So I thought to myself, 'really?' And I find that my most affective stories are depressive. It could be that this is a personality quirk, and yet I remember the bleak and barren wasteland-year of 10th or 11th grade when we read American Lit. The syllabus seemed crafted to draw us into melancholia.

And now, on the other side of the page, I wonder if dark is simply easier to write than light. If cynicism and disbelief are the weak answer to opposition. I know that cherishing bitterness and slights requires less effort and discomfort that seeking or granting forgiveness.

So I made a resolution. The next piece I take to be read will be upbeat. Promise.

It may not be the next piece I write, though.