It is difficult for me to love my writing when I am constantly ripping it apart, seam by seam, and then putting it back together again and hoping the stitching is good enough to fool everybody.

Currently I’m reading The Merlin Conspiracy and it is seamless, and elegant, and I envy it! However, reading is the best way to make my own writing glimmer (as I’m sure most writers would agree). It gives me a bit of juice to get going again, just as my passion project does that I wrote (and filmed!) about yesterday. You can watch the video in my previous post.

Another avenue that invigorates me when I am filled with despair in a faraway fantasy realm of my own creation is poetry. Poetry is now. It is visceral; it is one moment of perfection, captured. I have shared two of my favorite poems as of late, here, with you.

The first, a friend shared on Facebook (social media is not of the devil!). I will let it speak for itself.

The second is Anne Sexton’s “Her Kind.” It rings beautiful when read aloud, too. I memorized it the other week when I was severely procrastinating and it helped bring me a bit of peace. I even crafted a poem inspired by this poem, which was truly a nice break from prose writing. It’s here if you wish to read. If not, scroll up, fast, now!

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Then after a good bout of poetry, I miss prose, and I plunge back into the fantasy that I love.

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