Nothing about anything

"You can write about anything," she said, but really? Anything? There's an awful lot of anything in the world. How could anyone possibly write about that?

Take hedgehogs--please. I'm sure someone can write about hedgehogs, but that someone can't be me. I don't know diddly about hedgehogs, so how can I write about them? (Unless asserting my inability to write about hedgehogs qualifies as writing about them.)

The list of things I can't write about would have to include abacus, ailerons, anaconda, Antietam, Asperger's Syndrome, Angelina Jolie, and the Alps--and those are just the As. I can't write about Belgium, carborundum, deltoids, or (to skip a whole bunch of letters) shimmy-dampers. My son the pilot could tell you all about shimmy-dampers, but once I've told you that, I've told you everything I know about the topic.

"Go on," she said. "Just write. About anything."

But I can't! Writing about something is hard enough--now you want me to write about anything too? Harrumph to that. No one can write about anything. Someone can write about something--and at the moment, this someone can write about nothing.

"Anything," she said.

There: I've written about it. Satisfied?