Fear as Narrator and Catalyst
I haven’t written a blog post for a couple of years. During that time, fiction’s influence on my life has deepened. I look to possible narrators to understand the turbulence and rage that seems more dominant than ever in modern life.
Where I live, it is quiet most of the time. Deer nibble at the dry grass and I can spend hours watching hummingbirds at the feeder. They have developed a kind of courage, continuing to sip sugar water with their long and gorgeous beaks as I sit in a nearby chair. Hunger is survival. When does need become strong enough to overpower fear? So many fears curtail our actions. Although I need to speak out and stand up for the rights of all my fellow travelers, I dislike huge gatherings. Even an annual writing conference is overwhelming to me. If I can hide behind a table at the book fair, chatting with people one at a time, I’m much happier.
Writers know solitude. Although some of us appear gregarious, it is a persona we have developed. I learned to converse with strangers early in life. I want to hear their stories. Sometimes people sense this and reveal intimate details of their lives to me. This has happened in grocery stores, bank lines, restaurants, and even walking down the street. There is a familiarity to the human condition. No, you are not alone. Yes, I have been taken down by sadness and flattened by love as well.
Although we live in frightening times, individuals, like characters in a story, continue to live their lives. They worry about their children, invite love in, as impractical and risky as that may be. Perhaps they neglect themselves or get lost in grief. Being human means facing our fears, if not now, then at a future date.
Writing is a way of understanding. As my characters navigate obstacles in their lives, I, too, develop empathy for people who aren’t like anyone I know. What characteristics do I find abhorrent? Is there a path to communicating with people whose way of being in the world is offensive to me? I do not have the answers, only more questions. Writing has saved me many times and I have to believe that art, music, and writing will continue to unite us.
I saw many landscapes this summer–the yellows and reds of Copenhagen with its canal boats, the Grand Tetons with their jagged peaks. There were prong-horns, elk and bison, canyons and mountain ranges tipped with snow, even in August. Walking by a creek in Jackson, Wyoming, I passed people on bicycles, families, dogs on leashes. In Estonia, I didn’t understand the language but I sipped tentatively at the beer and I happily tried marinated raw fish in Denmark. I am lucky to have seen many places. It gives me appreciation for the diversity of both landscape and people and it sharpens my resolve to move quietly and courteously through the world. The truth is: most of us are awake and engaged. We want beauty in our environment and in our lives. My characters do not always get there in the course of a story but like us, they are on a path to greater understanding.
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Literary Imaginings by Lisa C. Taylor 