Monday It Is

I've never cried so much from an interview.
I'm doing a story about domestic violence, coming off of a murder last week of an ex-wife by her ex-husband, in front of their three children.
A domestic violence org set me up with an anonymous woman this morning to talk to about the abuse by her father of her mother and herself and her five siblings. He hit them all with "hammers, belts, hands, 2x4s, kicked us, slapped us, threw us around." The nothing that was done by everyone who knew--the teachers, friends, family--the fact that it keeps happening one generation after the next, arriving at our doorsteps as recently as days ago, as fresh and bloody as it was 30 years ago for this anonymous woman and her family...it was too much for me today.

Worse than talking to WTC victims' families, worse for some reason.

I cried in my editor's office for a while, and the last thing she said to me before I returned to my desk was: "Remember to keep the intensity when you write."

Fucking job.