Act of Creation
by J. A. Grier
Folding up the paper -
this craft feels so smooth.
Frog forms under my fingers.
It is satisfaction, so perfect.
His soothing form is my escape,
my symmetry and my control.
I feel him want to leap
but water would end him.
Still he seeks a pond - and one
sodden moment - to be real.
What advice do you have for other fantasy writers?
I think of the poem I'm working on as wet clay - I get my hands dirty, try new things, and enjoy myself. I keep shaping and sculpting until I love the thing I'm holding. As poets we need to set our minds free, and create what is inspiring for us and not what we think someone else wants. Fantasy seems to bloom when the mind is willing to surrender the ordinary and go someplace totally new, unexpected, full of energy, and maybe a little uncomfortable.