I sometimes think that telling the truth to someone who also wants to tell the truth to you at the same time is like a High Noon showdown where two people wait for the other to draw first and then fire away with the truth. This scenario raises some interesting questions: what if the person misses with the truth? What happens if the truth hits? Where does the bullet land? Does it wound, kill or actually enliven? What happens to the other person once the bullet hits or misses? Does he or she fire back? Holster the truth and walk away? Is truth even a bullet?
I keep thinking of Wonder Woman’s lasso of truth and believe that we all need one at our disposal and/or someone in our lives that will use it on us. If we did have the lasso, how often would we use it?
If we can’t imagine through writing what another person experiences, writing borders on useless for developing empathy and understanding of peoples’ differences.
The best American novel I have ever read that brought to life to an unforgettable female character is Dalva and it was written by a man, Jim Harrison.
Can a poet write an authentic poem about a clearcut without ever having walked through a clearcut? What is an authentic poem?
More people will always want to read about dragons that the Laws of the Universe. I need to embrace that fact as a writer. I like dragons, too! Is there a way to combine both?
I once communicated with a coyote—that’s a fact. He told me to let go of anger towards an institution that was desecrating a place I loved. I did. How could I not? He was the most regal coyote I had ever seen, practically white.
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