My dad absolutely hated colorful office supplies. I'd make some comment about how silly it is to have such virulent hate for something inanimate, but then I'd have to face all the things I have strong feelings about that make no sense, and I promised this blog was going to be uplifting and positive and I don't need to encourage myself against that premise.
So I'll just leave it at his feelings, especially those against colored post-its (anything except plain yellow), highlighters (any of them, period) and colored-ink pens, with a special distaste reserved especially for red ones.
I can't say how funny it always strikes me - and how wonderful it is to think of him - when I sit down to tackle a big editing project (this week it's been pre-production for BG Lex - coming soon!), red rollerball in hand and start making those pages bleed.
I'm a writer, too, so I try to be judicious with my edits and not wield the power too carelessly - and the times I'm on this side of the pen, I love that I always have a moment to think of him.
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