For those who don't know, my husband and I and our two kids are moving to Australia soon. Joy. Part of preparing for our departure is going through all of our stuff, including the boxes and boxes of papers I've accumulated through, oh, 10-ish years of grad school and getting rid of as much as we can.
This time around it's easier than ever to throw out the paper copies of articles I've had gathering dust since we moved to San Diego. Or earlier, to be honest. I have most of them digitally, and if I need them in the future I will almost certainly be able to get them digitally, so there really isn't a good reason to hang on to the carbon. Except maybe for the carbon credits.
Interspersed among the articles, though, are snippets of stories I penned between class notes and on the backs of scratch paper. Those I'm keeping. Some of them are really surprisingly good. Like, "I can't believe I wrote that" kind of good. Some of it is crap, too, but there are little nuggets of goodness in there that are the kind of fiction I would love to read myself (if I'd ever finished it).
Perhaps I'll post some of it here, or maybe I'll finish one or two off and actually attempt to publish something.
I made a comment about all my fragments to Derrick. Apparently he's paid more attention to them than I have. I haven't thought of myself as a writer, but he's seen me write enough stories in my spare time he thinks of me as a writer already.