About the Title

The title of this blog is an aesthetic statement in miniature. It asserts that the purpose of literature (and the arts, as broadly defined) is quite simple: they are our record of the felt human experience, of the immense variety of ways that it feels to be human. Literature is not polemic, not pure form, not even pure imagination (we have to have learned our imaginative language somewhere, after all). Writers’ emotions are usually too conflicted for us to even come up with completely comprehensible characters. All we can truly do as writers and artists is to show the world the people that we imagine and how it feels to be them. It is simultaneously a very simple and very ambitious goal. If we do it well enough, and allow our readers to understand the experience of human life from a perspective different than their own, then we have created art. 

I imagine that if you’re reading this, you’re a writer. In this blog I hope to encourage literary community and cross-pollination of ideas and experiences among writers. I hope you’ll respond thoughtfully to these postings, adding your own observations or posting links relevant to the questions that come up. 


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