Swamp Flowers

I’m swamped: Papers. Applications. Emails. Oral drills. Worksheets. Briusov. Blok. Akhmatova. Geothe. Flaubert. Hong Lou Meng. Saikaku. Higuchi. 

And then I have these bursts of ideas for fiction, flowers in the midst of the muck. But I am sorry flowers, I do not have time to tend to you. You’ll just have to do your best in the mud.

But wait, is that not where you bloom best, dear lily? Even while I struggle to find time to even imagine fiction, you grow in the dark, and take root in the muck of my life. 

Or maybe I am just making excuses for why I have no time to write fiction. 


I’ve been making sure I take time to write recently. Sometimes I stumble because I’m not sure if anyone will like what I write. But what’s most important is that I like what I write. The novel I’m working on has started to take on the shape of a collection of stories. There will be characters that appear in multiple stories, but there is not one character the story surrounds. Instead, the story traces a movement, or a history. 

And so I’ve been working on my story character by character. I’ve been writing for a character as I have inspiration for them. I’ve also been forcing myself to go into more depth, more interactions with other characters. My weak point with writing has always been characters, because I don’t really know them. But that’s because most of my writing has been in my head, and most of it has been world building. But I’ve found that as I create situations and write dialogues, that the characters come to life before me. 

And so I’ve been writing scenes for each character, and it’s been really fun. Maybe I’ll post some more original fiction soon. But for now I’m going to keep writing, just keep on writing. I may not keep what I write today, but the practice is what’s important. And as I write and my story morphs into what it is going to be, I will have a better and better picture of who my characters are. And so I will keep writing.

Join the Dance

Did you know that we’re made of stardust? Yes, in fact, we are. As the stars dance their waltzes, their mazurkas, their tangos, their foxtrots, their ballets, their boogies, their jigs, their consequential love falls to the earth as stardust, littering the ground, the trees, the waters, the animals, the bricks, and the silks with its fragrance, its magic, its ecstasy, its rhythm. Love between two people may seem to be random, chance, coincidental, arbitrary, sometimes a childhood romances, sometimes unrequited, sometimes on the train or in the park, sometimes via a dropped pencil, sometimes across the room, sometimes in dreams, it is actually very structured, and quite to be expected, for lovers come from the same stardust, the same dance.

You may ask, what about lovers years apart, or miles apart? Well, then I would tell you that stars are not bound by time or space, for they shine constantly on all peoples at all times, so it is absurd to think that that could be an issue. However, that is also why some people never find love because their mate is trapped in another era, another world even. A girl may read a history book and discover her lover in a sixteenth century explorer, and wish for a dead man, but he may only ever see her in his dreams, maybe. Or, a man falls for a girl who seems to be fictional, but has really only been born in another world, and the written page is the only portal to her.

Or, did you hear of the old man who met his love just before he died, and she was just coming into the world, but he knew her when he saw her although their moment together was only brief? She was miserable for the rest of her life. Some may call him a pedophile, but it was not an erotic, sexual, lustful, love, but simply love in its purest form.

Sometimes, although thankfully not too often, the dust becomes two close relatives. Now, should they fight the laws of their society in order that they might be together, to satisfy their stars? Is it worth it? Or should they rebel against their nature and find another to love?

Other times stardust does not scatter, but remains as one, united entity. You know these people. Any love they have is only an accessory, because they already have themselves to love, they don’t need anyone to love them, and they cannot possibly love anyone else.

And so, ladies and gentlemen, that is why we must earnestly, desperately, seriously, passionately, seek out and find our love, for he, or she, completes us, and together you and he, or she, will manifest in the glory of that love which descended from the heavens, for each individual is only have a romance, and we must need a partner before we can go to the ball and join the dance.