Regular Genius

After an initial and energized craving for action, to do something, anything, I have since rolled back the exuberant spirit, in part to conserve energy but also to prevent myself from acting irrationally which, I think, is an easy habit to adopt whenever you feel overly emotional, and I was for a moment, which served no one, least of all the writers I edit. I can entertain my anxieties or remain in the present, and deal with the reality presented as-is; as an editor, and personally, I choose the latter, even as I read the news every day, as breaking news alerts breach whatever silent corner I’ve carved out for myself. But I serve no new purpose in this very old world now suddenly revealing to new eyes old atrocities—Wikileaks and bots did not concoct the fall of Aleppo—but my role remains: I am to find writers who investigate themselves, and I am to publish them for you, the reader, who might understand another human a little more if you give a story a chance. To answer the question, yes, everything has changed.