First: it’s been far too long since my last post, and for that I apologize. This new novel I’ve been working on has really been gobbling up my time (in the best possible way). Still, I wanted to ensure that some of my writing consistently finds it way into the world, so here’s a new poem for the day.
With my new novel being an exploration of the kind of story I’ve always wanted to write (while ignoring the insecurity that leads artists to hedge bets instead of committing to their vision), I’ve been ruminating on why I write and what I hope my stories can achieve.
Ultimately, I want my work to spark conversations, challenge, and inspire. But most of all, I want my writing to offer hope. Though Milton said that hopes springs eternal, I feel like we’ve been running low of late. With that, here’s a poetic Ars Poetica of sorts. Make sure to let me know what you think in the comments here or on Twitter (@Dreamertide).
Stories live in me.
I didn’t expect
everyday spent scribbling
out a better world than this one,
but, God, it’s fun
to make believe,
finding some reprieve
from imaginations gone rogue.
They say it’s old-fashioned
to double down on hope,
that cynicism reigns
and many praise the refrain
that echoes “Pain to all,”
but I say “No.”
I rest on secrets never told,
a million journeys on distant roads,
on magic rings and pirate gold,
I will stake my claim.
By ships among the sea or stars,
potato farms and queens of Mars,
in war-torn heroes, seedy bars,
I can find a way
to remind you all
with words and deeds,
regardless of colors, kinds, or creeds,
that best we have
and all we need
is to make believe.
So give up lies and come alive,
set down your torch, take up as scribes
that sacred duty here advised:
to say something worth saying–
not words of hate or empty rhetoric
that try to find the zealot or heretic.
I want your stories
just say something worth saying.