When you set out to write something profound, sometimes trite is all that flows from the pen. Inscribaphobia: The fear of writing something in a guestbook, wedding log, gift card, or brand-new journal because you are worried it will sound silly, dumb. “This one counts,” you say to yourself, “better not mess it up. What if I do?”
Maybe we could all have certain set phrases, concise, elegant, significant, on the warming rack, cooked and ready to serve at a moment’s notice. (I’ve thought the same about memorizing brief poems to use as prayers, toasts, warm wishes for the party’s honoree.)
