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ResolutionsDecember 31, 2006 The latest e-newsletter from Powells.com (December 28) included "Intermission with Brockman, Blogmaster." Immediately I recognized a kindred spirit. Wrote Brockman: "Rather than find things to improve about myself, I like to ring in the New Year by making lists of resolutions for the special people in my life, to help them pinpoint and fix the qualities that aren't so great about them." This released My Inner Snideness to wreak havoc as she will. Within 15 seconds I had a formidable list of special people, most of whom, I confess, I do not much care for, but I'm also savvy (and self-experienced) enough to realize that if they bug me this much I must have a character defect, or at least some unresolved business, that needs addressing. Almost none of these people are likely to be reading this blog, or to have friends reading it who are likely to call them up posthaste and say, "Hey, what did you do to piss Susanna off??" However, I have lived in small towns long enough to know that sooner or later everyone finds out everything about everybody, and wanting to keep it confidential only guarantees that they will find it out faster. Hence I speak in generalities and pseudonyms. I also speak under the influence of White Russian. For this you can blame J.C. (not that J.C. -- this one's a discerning writer-editor who lives in New Hampshire) for gifting me with a bottle of Kahlúa, and you can blame the bottle of Kahlúa for crying piteously and nonstop for the bottle of vodka from which it was separated at the distillery, which is why I returned from the liquor store the other day with more than the four six-packs I went there for. Or maybe you can blame Leo Tolstoy: how could anyone think to copyedit War and Peace without a bottle of vodka in the house? Half the characters in the novel drink to excess; why shouldn't I? Ms. Answer-for-Everything: In the new year I will speak from my own personal experience instead of regurgitating advice from all the books I've read. I realize that this may require me to actually get some personal experience. The Shameless Self-Promoters: At least once a week I will make a statement whose subtext is not "Look at me! Aren't I cool!" By the end of June I will be doing this at least once a day. Mr. Mediocrity: I will strive for a more realistic assessment of my own accomplishments, and a more accurate assessment of the accomplishments and potential of others. Liberals, Progressives, and Lefties, especially those of the male persuasion: I will consider the possibility that not all the problems of the left and the Democratic Party are due to the religious right. Lesboqueasy Feminists: I will consider the possibility that it is possible to lead a creative, intellectually, emotionally, and spiritually full life without being a man, sleeping with a man, being willing to sleep with a man, having been a man in the past, or intending to become a man in the future. The Island Affluenza: I will stop invoking "the rural character of Martha's Vineyard" until I can explain how "rural" is compatible with land that costs $300,000 an acre and up. Literary Agents, Publishers, and Gatekeepers of All Kinds: Every once in a while I will admit to the inner circle an idea, a book, or a full-blown person that makes me a little nervous. As for myself, I resolve to get back to work on The Squatters' Speakeasy and to press on with trying to find a publisher for The Mud of the Place. These things should not be too hard if all of the above do what's best for them, the nation, the planet, and, of course, me and keep their resolutions. Oh yeah, and I resolve to stop taking everybody else's inventory, but it's only 11 o'clock and my resolution doesn't go into effect until midnight.
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