Contrary to what the critics tell us, popular fiction is not a swamp of barely literate escapism; popular fiction is composed of ancient myths newly reborn, telling and retelling a simple truth: ordinary people can do extraordinary things. Jack can plant a beanstalk that will provide endless food; a Tom Clancy character can successfully unravel a conspiracy that threatens the lives of millions. A knight can slay a dragon; a Stephen King character can defeat the massed forces of evil. Cinderella can attract the prince through her own innate decency rather than through family connections; a Nora Roberts heroine can, through her own strength, rise above a savagely unhappy past and bring happiness to herself and others.

—“Popular Fiction: Why We Read It, Why We Write It” by Ann Maxwell/Elizabeth Lowell

Getting reblogged feels just like being published, is.

Logic dictates I create the literary equivalent of this.

Forever, I thought solipsism was one’s belief that she is the center of the universe. This seemed to be a logical definition to me, “sol” after all means “sun.” Also, someone who is solipsistic is egotistical, duh. I mean: my definition made sense. To me, at least.

I started this post with something profound to say.

I was going to say: Logic would tell us that solipsism derives from ego, the inflation of self to the point that one believes she is the center of the universe, planets rotating around her; however, solipsism comes from a deep sense of insecurity and nothing else.

But I was wrong. Solipsism is not the belief that one is the center of this galaxy. Solipsism does not equate self with the sun, a star. No, solipsism is “the view or theory that self is the only object of real knowledge or the only thing really existent” (OED). It’s etymology does not come from “sol” meaning “sun” but from “solus” meaning “alone,” easy mistake, sure.

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Which do you prefer: City, college town, or countryside?

I’ve always thought college towns would be ideal. Then, frosh week started and these purple people (literally, no metaphor at all) descended on my town. And reader: these are NOT the poor freshmen. That would be logical, maybe. No, these are the hazers. Needless to say, this place is a hazardly mess.