I’m not blaming the education system. Heck, it’s been so long since I was in school, that would be pretty silly. I’ve had twenty years since I graduated to learn more. It’s my own fault for not doing it.
But the fact remains, there is so much out there I know nothing about. History of anything but the US and Europe, mythology that’s not Greek or Roman, CSS (Cascading Style Sheets, it’s how this blog is constructed and I didn’t do it), philosophy, that lake in Siberia that is frozen under a meter of ice for five months of the year, yet teems (that’s the verb, teems, because it’s very descriptive) teems with life (freshwater sponges! A freshwater seal!) I don’t know why Dark Chocolate Chex Mix is so addictive (though I have theories. Must conduct more research…). I don’t know much beyond the October Revolution except that it happened. I don’t even know what happened to Mussolini after WWII. (Though I think I’m ahead of many in this country who wouldn’t know Mussolini if he whacked them with his sash.)
I never cared about any of that. Why would I? What I wanted to write was science fiction. So. Keep up with physics, learn some geography and geology, biology and anatomy, try not to get too confused when talking quantum mechanics–I’d be good to go. Right?
Wrong. My books are about people, the one thing I haven’t really bothered to study.  People, the ones who make the history, the myths, the cultures…
Sigh.
Anyway. So that’s my goal for the summer. I’m going to write and edit and read and learn–if I can just figure out where to start.
Wait–why the HELL am I up past eleven again???
arghh…