We Do It Out of Love: a poem about fan fiction writers

We’re fan fiction writers —

part of our fandoms’ obsessive cores.

We keep putting our fanon thoughts in writing.

What do you mean, “What is this for?”

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We’re quick to append disclaimers,

not wanting to be fined.

“I’m making no money from this.

The original story, it’s not mine.

-

“I’m just borrowing the characters to play with them.

I promise I’ll put them back when I’m done.

All praise belongs to the author!

Without her, I’d have no fun.”

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We predict the future of the plot

during the long wait between books.

We maneuver the characters like chess pieces —

like pawns, knights, bishops, and rooks.

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We fill in missing passages

based upon what we’ve read.

We create non-canon couples.

We resurrect the dead.

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We write about minor characters

and let them have their say.

From a few brief lines in the canon,

we extrapolate page after page, day after day.

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To characters, we develop an attachment.

We see them as works of art.

We give them detailed histories.

They stay forever in our hearts.

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We create original elements

and drop them into the fantastical plot.

We alter the world with our imaginations,

adding new professors, relatives, and gods-know-what.

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All sorts of mysterious things take form

under our furious pens.

A cursory glance becomes a look of passion.

Enemies become the best of friends.

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A word becomes an epic;

Two lines, a lengthy love story;

a character thrice mentioned a hero;

and the canon hero killed and buried.

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We create characters’ journals;

introspective monologues inside their minds;

letters they’ve written back and forth;

and storylines of all kinds.

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Our innermost thoughts come through in our fantasies.

The characters speak our desired dialogue.

Our interpretations show who we really are,

shining through the mist and the fog.

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We write the shortest drabbles

and the longest novel-length prose.

We pour out our minds and hearts.

We bare the deepest parts of our souls.

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The author’s world-building efforts

create for us a home.

We know that within the world and fandom

we’ll never be alone.

-

The story may have come to a close.

The author may even be long dead.

But the story lives on in our hearts —

those precious words that we read.

-

There is never an ending

as long as we imagine more.

The last chapter is not the finale.

We’ll create all kinds of fanon and lore.

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Oh, some may say we’re mental or immature,

that this we should be above,

but the gods’ honest truth is

we do it out of love.

My 2008 Entry for the Beedle the Bard Ballad Writing Contest

[Back in 2008, Amazon hosted the Beedle the Bard Ballad Writing Contest.  The winner was then sixteen-year-old Rhiannon from Australia.  Her poem was really wonderful and showed wonderfully how Harry has affected her life; what she wrote resonated with me.[1] Please do read her poem.

I submitted an entry to the contest but wasn’t one of the winners. Still, writing about Harry Potter is enjoyable, and I thought I’d share the poem I entered in the contest.]

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To fight evils on the outside

one must fight those within

Harry fought his anger and fear.

With them, he could not win.

—

The evil nearly threw him off

his path to victory.

Not one piece of Voldemort’s soul –

but his own misery.

—

No horcrux or evil magic

is as deadly as fear.

No poison as insidious

as the anger we feel.

—

Harry Potter, he taught me to

take an internal glance.

If we try to improve ourselves

evil won’t stand a chance.

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References

[1] Beedle the Bard Ballad Writing Contest:  Grand Prize Winner.  Amazon website.  Retrieved on April 1, 2011 from http://www.amazon.com/gp/feature.html?ie=UTF8&docId=1000207461.

Afraid of the Dark: a poem

[This is a poem I wrote in high school.  I read it at an event at our local arts center along with several other students from my high school and other schools in the town who also read some of their writing.]

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Afraid of the Dark

There’s darkness all around.

Leaves crunching underfoot.

The river flows like a heartbeat.

The wind is blowing from the mountain.

Walking here, all is quiet.

All is calm and serene,

but I fear that which I cannot see,

and that which hides in the shadows.

There seems to be someone following me,

surrounding me.

I feel like they’re going to attack me.

I feel like they’re going to attack me.

I hear the slicing of a blade

through the night.

Everything and everyone

conspires against me.

There is no safe haven

while the moon reigns supreme.

Let Them Say I Was Great: a poem

[This is a poem I wrote in high school.  I read it at an event at our local arts center along with several other students from my high school and other schools in the town, who also read some of their writing.

The poem was inspired, in part, by the ending of the movie Troy.  There’s a scene in which the character Odysseus of the words, “If they ever tell my story, let them say . . . I walked with giants.  Men rise and fall like the winter wheat . . . but these names will never die.  Let them say I lived in the time of Hector, tamer of horses.  Let them say . . . I lived in the time of Achilles.”[1] I really enjoyed that film.

In ninth grade, we read some parts of the Odyssey during English class, and I really loved it.  I hope to read both the Iliad and the Odyssey in the future.]

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Let Them Say I Was Great

—

Let them say I was great,

That I always reached for the stars.

Let them say I changed the world,

That my presence left its spoils and scars

—

Let my name be remembered for all time;

Let it echo throughout the eternal ages.

Let it be recorded in history books-

A name worthy of precious pages.

—

Let my name be among those of kings and heroes.

Let me be known in all places.

Let me be a unique person, even strange.

I don’t want to be one of the anonymous faces.

—

Let my life be one worth living.

Let me never back away in fear.

Let me always stand up and fight,

Even if the outcome’s unclear.

—

I know I’m only a mortal

Reaching for eternity with no remorse.

I know I can never be as great as perfection,

But I’ll always try to come close.

—

Though time may wear on, and wheels may turn,

May my memory never fade,

And more important still:

May the Lord be glad that by Him I was made.

—

Some may settle for being a sidekick

Or some other noble fate,

But for me, that’s just not enough.

Let them say I was great.

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[1] http://en.wikiquote.org/wiki/Troy_(film)#Odysseus

Once Upon a Time: a poem

[This is a poem I wrote during high school for creative writing class.  I was in tenth grade and it was the spring of 2005.  This poem was included in our school's art and literary magazine.]

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Once Upon a Time

—

Once upon a time,

a long time ago,

there was a land

I used to know

—

Filled with excitement,

Fun and magic.

I’d go there again,

but it’s so tragic.

—

The last time I was there,

a cataclysm took place,

and the people, they all

seemed to about face.

—

They were not what they seemed.

They spoke naught but lies.

They deceived me for a time

and filled my nights with cries.

—

One day perhaps. . .

I will find that perfect place,

filled with real magic

and everlasting grace

—

But until then,

I’ll have to stay here,

in this in-between place,

and face my fear.

A Guide to Finding a Muse: a poem

[During the spring semester of 2007, I took a Creative Writing class at my college.  The assignment, if I recall correctly, was to write a poem imitation.  I chose to base my poem on Isaac Asimov’s The Foundation of S.F. Success.[1] In this poem, he gives satirical advice about writing science fiction.  My poem offers advice on finding a Muse.  It’s nowhere near as good as Asimov’s; he’s one of the greats and I’m a random person with a blog.  I’m posting it here anyway, with many thanks and apologies to Dr. Isaac Asimov.]

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A Guide to Finding a Muse

—

If your hopes and dreams you avoid, because your thoughts have been quite devoid of anything for creative use

Do not begin to drink or even start to think that it’s impossible to find yourself a Muse.

Do not be a fool and just follow a simple rule (or two) to get his precious attention

And he will be at your side, even if he’s got to cross the Greatest Divide, before his name you can mention.

—

And if you follow this logic to a perfect degree

Your Muse will think, Indeed this is the writer for me.

If you’re willing to invoke hours of insomnia

He’ll take you on an adventure through any genre

—

If you want to feel inspired but are extremely tired from papers and tests galore

Just sit up in bed while thoughts fill your head and unfinished homework litters the floor.

Make sure to not show your fear or your Muse, so dear, will certainly avoid you at all costs.

Keep on writing and keep on fighting through your fuzzy thoughts, even if you feel lost.

—

And you’ll be filled with elation

As he realizes your dedication,

As he comes to you with gladness,

knowing you eager, genius madness.

—

Once he’s there with his serious-yet-inspirational flair, standing by your gleeful self,

treat him with respect and your writing he’ll perfect, and your tomes will soon fill many a shelf.

Some conversation will do for free minutes he has few, and he’ll want a friendly companion.

To his flaws, have an open mind and he will in return, be so kind that you’ll become a champion.

—

And if you are a good partner, he won’t give you a duel.

He may be slow to arrive, but I assure you he’s not cruel.

He’ll praise you to all the world and guide you ‘till you’re done.

With him by your side, the day will surely be won.

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[1] Asimov, Isaac.  “The Foundation of S.F. Success.”  Isaac Asimov:  The Complete Stories, Vol. 1.  New York: Broadway, 2001, pg 41.

[An earlier edition of the book was published in 1990.  The poem was copyrighted in 1954.]

ISBN:   978-0-385-41627-X.