While browsing the Writing & Publishing section of Kickstarter, i was captivated by the gypsy-like illustration for what turned out to be a project for sci-fi and poetry magazine, Basement Stories.
I was very happy to receive an email that i was able to help kickstart this project, one combining two of my loves, poetry and sci-fi. The former i have marked indelibly upon my flesh; the latter is useful in exercising my mind, constantly pushing the envelope and stretching my imagination into contortionist positions. Combined, i see the two as a mental yoga, maintaining intellectual spryness, yet with youthful boundless creativity.
It’s said one should never judge a book by its cover, with the proverb’s subjects being placeholders for anything, generally. But, i’m aware that we are attracted to those things that, those people whom are aesthetically appealing, that spark some intrigued part of our brains or loins. So, with the illustration, with the gypsy appealing to some aspects of both, i was delighted by something deeper. Everything is connected, intertwined.
I perused the basementstories.org site and was quite pleased by the previous offerings, the authors coming from all sorts of angles regarding content, as well as titles of their pieces. Titles are important—they are the names of each individual creation, of each singular family (collections or anthologies) and help to give us an idea of what to expect, or even not to expect; they can impart history. One such title that piqued my interest was one entitle, “Persephone.” I’m a Greek mythology/legend geek. I absolutely love all aspects of it. From the stolen stories from the African continent, to the parables and jarring stories of mortals versus immortals, their innocence and glory, the hamartia and arrogance that destroys them.
Science fiction is not always about space and ships, moons and far away galaxies; it can focus on time travel and slavery, the interracial love spanning centuries, as is seen in Octavia Butler’s seminal Kindred; or it can be steampunk themed, think of the Will Smith movie, Wild Wild West (but, not always cowboys and saloons).
Science fiction is very robust and organic. Poetry is the same way.
Read any of Emily Dickinson’s 1,773 poems (many of them very short, no more than 5-10 lines) or Bukowski or D. A. Levy or Amiri Baraka or T. S. Eliot or Shams-ud-din Muhammad Hafiz and you’ll be astonished and jolted. Nothing is similar, all different aspects of someone’s world are shown or touched upon. From the morbid to the divine to the everyday to the blasphemous to the contemplative to the condemning to the incredulous, there is a poem or an artist for all.
I’m not going to edit this piece—or re-read it. I’m on my mobile device (BlackBerry, baby!) And don’t feel like scrolling up.
I gotta run right now, but wanted to share something; it’s been too long. Weeks i think.
Let’s hope this post kickstarts my writing more frequently again.
Thanks, as usual and most appreciated, for reading.