a change in direction

I have spent much of the last several weeks writing poetry.  Setting up a pipeline of pieces for e-publication through the rest of the year.  It followed a stretch of time reading over my old blogposts searching for a particular piece of writing (that I eventually found) but discovering how much of the concepts explored in the writing in those postings lent themselves to a poetic form.  So convert I did.

I may write more through the course of the year, after all I have at least one mentee muse who keeps on doing and saying things that inspire ideas for pieces with such fervour, they are (inadvertently) the gift that gives unrelenting. I suspect half of that creative inspiration is because I am really struggling to communicate across a generational difference. But that's a story for another day.

What I wanted to canvass today was how much that poetry writing has cleared my head of a few cobwebs. So much so I am reworking the story board for the Peithosian Legacy manuscript I am currently writing and started working my way though the first third already written and rewriting. It's a change in direction. Decided to shift to a more erratic form of narrative to better reflect the discombobulation of all the characters after a cataclysmic event at the start of the third and final part of the series. After many months of procrastination and writers block, I finally figured that this change of approach made more sense given the circumstance. The early chapters covering the event itself are about as structured as it should be - after that things should unravel.  The main unknown is how many years (in the narrative) does it take to get back to some semblance of normal.  

The story-board has this taking about 15 years.  I workshopped dystopian societies with a few colleagues last year to test this timing and most believed it would take about 15-20 years and things would never be the same.  If all the 'survivors' of such a catastrophic event are difficult people, then likely it would take longer.  Ironically, the pandemic over the last few years highlighted just how 'closed-off' countries (even states within countries) could be and this fiefdom (almost medieval in response) approach seemed far too common to ignore. A measure of how humanity responds to certain threats.  Things can spiral pretty quickly downwards and take a long time to recover.

Fodder for the rewrite.

In the meantime, here's my favourite of the three pieces I've had published in the this month. It's called the craft of flirting, based on a blogpost I wrote a dozen years ago.

A hell of a lot of confusion
arises between bonding and romance.

(the ugly) one extreme low tide. 
Sledgehammer teasers - 
wearing revealing clothing,
hands firmly touching or stroking an arm, 
hard core fluttering of eyelids, 
hand flicking of couture hair far too often, 
laughing excessively at another’s bad humour,
using flirting to feel better about themselves. 
Women (and men) with low self-esteem, 
in need of the attention of others
to somehow give meaning to their lives.

(the sad) non-engagement shunners. 
Steadfastly avoiding making small talk 
with any person that may misconstrue
statements for anything 
other than small talk.
Steering clear of spring seabirds
who misinterpret 
the grains of sand attention
for desire.

(the good) contrasting high watermark. 
European masters focus instead
on coaxing new social circle others
to feel involved and comfortable.
Pillow soft icebreaking technique,
designed to relax
and let those unfamiliar
slip out of their shells
and build their confidence.

There should never be any question 
or ambiguity
about wanton lust and motive.
Endgame overt signalling infinitely better. 
Never covert.
Subtlety is wasted
on the inexperienced.

A conversation can be just a conversation.