So my bud and fellow poet Daniel Zomparelli tagged me in this thing called “Blog Hop” where he answers a set number of questions then nominates, i.e. “tags,” other people with blogs to do the same. I read his post and giggled – ’cause it reads as very Daniel – then got to the end where he issues the challenge for me to follow suit, and I was like, “Ugh.”
Know those e-mails that ask you to “Share if you believe in good will towards men. We bet 99% of you won’t” or “Share with ten friends and the name of the love of your life will be revealed!”? You know the kinds of e-mails I’m talking about: the ones that get passed around like a bad cold at an 8th grade make-out party. I hate them, I hated the 8th grade, and I hate anything that asks me to quantify my moral being or quality of my life in a few short clicks. So naturally, my response to Daniel was, “Love you dude, but HAHAHAHA NOPE.”
And then I remembered how much of a sweetie Daniel is, with his scruffy beard and boyish smile and unfortunate DJ name (wait a couple weeks then ask him about it; he’s still grieving). And then I told myself to stop over-thinking it (it’s four questions. Four questions! Ain’t no thang). And then I remembered I hadn’t updated this thing in months (ah fuck it, this is as good an excuse as any. Also, copies of my chapbook mentioned in my last post still available! GET YOU SOME).
So here goes:
1. What am I working on?
Sigh. I dunno I’m, like, working on this thing and it’s supposed to be a long thing all storylike or whatever the whosit’s called that’s notpoetry but I dunno man like long as in meandering or long as in Could Win Awards or whatever I don’t fuckin’ know and sometimes I can’t get enough and sometimes I avoid it all by tralala-ing through other things
like this post and I’m just like fuck it y’know?
(Translation: I don’t want to talk about it.)
2. How does my work differ from others of its genre?
What kind of a question is that?
(Still don’t want to talk about it.)
3. Why do I write what I do?
This is stupid.
(Seriously, don’t go there.)
4. How does my writing process work?
Oh sweet Jesus. Why don’t we all just sit around while holding hands and talk about our feelings? At least that might involve cake.
(*kisses teeth* Girl bye.)
Kay, all done! I get to chalk this up as completing the deed, right?
Ugh. Fine. I’m not answering all those questions, but I will reveal this: writing, for me, comes down to a question of survival – of ensuring the truths and traditions from the many cultures that make me whole not only survive but thrive, despite the societal pressures that deem my communities as separate, trivial, “minority”; of giving voice to the fullness of life “on the margins” so that readers who’ve experienced the same can look to something external and see themselves affirmed; of powering the internal messages to boost self-confidence that aid me in somehow living in this fucked-up world. I don’t write because I can; I write because I must, because it’s how I fill my world with meaning.
In closing, here’s a picture of a puppy:
Lydia Okello & Cassidy MzFadzean, you’re up! You’ve got till Oct. 31st to post your answers. Looking forward to it.
If the name of the love of my life doesn’t pop up after I click “Publish” on this post, I’m gonna be so pissed.