Writing fiction is an act of empathy. It requires us to see the world through the eyes of people other than ourselves.
Writing fiction is an act of imagination. It requires us to see possibilities that do not yet exist.
Writing fiction is an act of dedication. It requires us to have the discipline to see a difficult labor of love through to completion.
Writing fiction requires writers to feel life more deeply. To absorb the world, to soak it in, to wrap one’s self in the spectrum of emotions, from the euphoric to the terrifying.
And there are times when the world feels overwhelming. When those empathetic receptors that writers employ to channel the world are overpowered by the fear and by disbelief that our most dystopian imaginations are not as safely confined in the realm of fiction as we would like to believe.
I don’t see silver linings right now. I don’t see an orderly pendulum that gives me any expectation that this too shall pass in time. I don’t see the utility in joining hands with people who will pull us down. I don’t see wisdom in trying to make excuses for the misguided and irresponsible.
So what can we do?
We open our eyes to see the world as it really is.
We remember that our strength comes from each other.
We summon our hope.
We summon our courage.
And we write.
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Art: Blossoming Almond Branch in a Glass with a Book by Vincent van Gogh