Red Room Where the Writers Are

   The month of November, occasionally a disastrous time for the Nation, for my City, and for my loved ones, has been rather good to us this year.

My friend hates the phrase "paradigm shift." She's right, of course, that it is overused to the point of exhaustion. (And people like myself are the culprits, hoarding scraps of hope lo these many years to shore up our belief that positive change is around the corner.) But still, right now, I can't think of anything that says it better: events have caused a large number of people to reconsider their internalized models of how the world works, to notice and begin to root out retrograde tendencies lodged in the corners of their own minds.

They'll come without notice, still. The tears, I mean.

My Canadian friends and I were huddled together in hope, glued to CNN, when, a few minutes after 8 pm Pacific Time, the results put Barack Obama over the line and into the presidency. I felt something lift off my shoulders: a weight of shame called George W. Bush that had been lodged there so long I'd forgotten how it felt to be without that heavy load.

Back in 2004, I sat in my then cottage with two writer friends who happen to be on Redroom, and we watched the debate between John Kerry and George Bush.  At the time, I was so numb from leaving m