You don't watch the news?

Some people are astonished to hear I don't watch the news. One friend who expressed shock told me that she'd been waking up to the headlines on the radio every day for the past twenty-five years in the same breath that she said she was feeling depressed. I could understand why. She's a brilliant woman, but she resisted making the connection.

Here are three questions people ask me, in tones ranging from baffled astonishment to horror.



You don't watch the news?

For many people, watching the news is like breathing. And morning coffee. The fact that the news is invariably depressing at best, terrifying at worst, seems to be irrelevant, even though it inevitably sets the tone for their day.


What do you do in the morning?
Lie in bed and think. Idea time. The germ of a new story may come to me. Or maybe it's a title. Or my series characters start wisecracking in my mind. Sometimes my unconscious writes a publishable flash story or the next chapter or scene of a book I'm reading or show I'm watching in my head. Word for word. Recently it wrote a scene in the TV series Murderbot, based on Martha Wells's multi-award-winning novella, All Systems Red, in which the rogue protagonist SecUnit aka Murderbot explains to its humans how a SecUnit properly programmed by Corporation Rim would fool a group of scientists into letting it invade their facility so it could kill them: "It has to wait for an instruction. If the humans say, "Who is there?" or "What do you want?" it is silent. If they say, "Tell us what you want," it says, "HOW?" The instruction is HOW. Humans: "What do you mean, how?" Invader: "HOW." Hear, Obey, Wait. It really should be HOWL. Hear, Obey, Wait, Learn. It Hears the humans' voices asking who is there and what they want. It Obeys whatever their response dictates. It Waits to see how they react. It Learns to imitate the humans' voices and reactions. Then it persuades the humans to let it in, and it kills them." No, Martha Wells didn't write that, nor did the TV scriptwriters, though I think it's kind of brilliant and in character for Murderbot. My unconscious worked it out in the creative time in which I wasn't watching the news.
Once my unconscious is ready for a nap, I get up and
Potchke with my flowers.
Do my stretches.
Eat breakfast.

Drink coffee as I go through some daily tasks on the computer that include health maintenance records and checking my finances as well as my husband's. (I manage the money. He does the housework and follows and analyzes the news.)
Look at my email and clear it all. Respond to whatever needs a response: a letter to a friend, a post on DorothyL or Short Mystery.
Do some writing if I haven't been moved to start earlier.



If you don't watch the news, how can you deal with what's happening?

As I said, my husband is the news guy. As someone who's smart enough to have been learning from history his whole life, he has a global perspective. He's kept a close eye on Ukraine since that conflict started. He's a big fan of the Ukrainians. Since the election, I've told him he has to start following the national news with equal attention. He's to report to me at once if Social Security or Medicare is in danger or if they're about to cart the Jews away. When the pogroms got bad in what's now Dnipro in 1905, my dad's parents packed the kids up and took them to America. There's no obvious place to get away to now. I have a couple of friends who moved to Mexico between 2016 and 2020. Americans, Jewish or not, might be getting very unpopular there right now. The same goes for Canada, where some of my generation of draft age young men sought refuge in the Sixties.

I refuse to get my knickers in a twist on a daily basis. Until the worst is actually happening, agita is optional, and I choose to avoid it. We do both follow the obits. It's an age thing. We've both reached the stage where we don't recognize most of the celebrities featured in AARP The Magazine as turning 50 or even many of the turning 60s. The 70s, 80s, and 90s, though, are our peeps. We want to know how old they were and how they died. As with the friends and family members we're gradually losing, we're both sad about these losses and grateful that for now, we're still healthy, productive, and reasonably happy. We don't have forever any more. We don't want to spend it doom scrolling and chewing over how our youthful efforts to make things better fell short. We don't want to spend the time we have left miserable about the past, angry about the present, and terrified of the future. So no, I don't read the news. I potchke with my flowers instead.