Write a poem titled ‘witherwill’.

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The prompt is below under the asterisks. If you love advice and criticism the below rant under the hearts is not for you. The below rant may not be for anyone but me. And I’m ok with that. But I need to get it out or have it corrode my sparkling heart.

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I’ve been writing my whole life. It brings me an enormous amount of satisfaction, joy and makes my heart sparkle. I know how to use metaphor, and simile. I adore assonance and alliteration. I love saying and spelling the word onomatopoeia. I understand how to use it. Imagery is one of my favourite things in the entire world.

But if someone, once more tells me “show don’t tell” I am going to scream. Fuck you fuck you fuck you.

Our brains, “show don’t tell” people, they are not the same. I love writers who clearly state what their character is feeling, who sort through the flowery metaphors and cut through the chaos of crap to tell me what is actually going on. I LOVE IT. TELL ME. I can also read and enjoy people who show, but sometimes it takes my brain a little bit to sort what you’re implying or what I’m to infer. BECAUSE WE ARE NOT THE SAME. And writing and writers are allowed to be different and no one has the final say in what gets to be written, how it should be written or who should be writing. And I’m tired of pretending it’s ok.

I’m tired of nodding and agreeing. I’m old enough and done enough and read enough to know we aren’t all going to like the same thing.

I had a professor tell me once that I shouldn’t use sentence fragments. And because of my opposition to advice all I could do was use sentence fragments. AND I LOVE THEM. Broken sentences is often how I think. Disjointed memories. Words. Moments. This phrasing often mimics the way my brain works. It is soothing. If you use sentence fragments my heart will soar and I’ll be onboard.

That’s not advice. That’s just what I like.

You want language with flowers and not to be told. Cool! That’s awesome for you. There are plenty of authors who show and don’t tell. PLENTY. Because they followed the rules and did what they were told.

Maybe I used to wish I could. I don’t anymore. I’m likely going to write the way I like, and in the end, it’s because I’m looking for people who like who am I and what I write, and I’ve realized that though the number of people who want to read the way I write might be smaller, I am happier to write the way that makes me feel good. Weirdly. I like my writing. When I show instead of tell I can feel how forced is it. How fake. And that doesn’t mean the people who show are fake. It means that they have access to a different kind of writing. That’s exciting.

I love how much diversity exists. I love writing that tells me who the author is, how they think. I want to see the author’s voice in their writing. That is my thing. It doesn’t have to be your thing.

I have been oppositional since the day I learned how to oppose things. When to sleep (I am nocturnal), how to eat (my mother had to bend my spoon), how to hold a pen (I taught myself to write at 3 years old in a corner with letters on a sheet of paper and a crayon between my fingers and they were forever trying to “fix” me at school). I won’t do what you tell me. I can’t.

My writing grew out of an opposition to almost everything I was taught. I am a frustrating student. BUT I LOVE TO LEARN. I just don’t learn the same way.

Don’t tell me what to do.

Show me. (I didn’t know that this was going to be the crux of the argument and it is hilarious to me too 😂🤣😭)

….I’m still laughing. I know better than to read the how to improve comments in competitions written by fellow writers. But I guess I read it thinking that today would be different. That I could handle the “advice”.

Nope. So weird. Knowing how your brain works and not being able to change the outcome.

My initial statement still holds. I love reading all sorts of different kinds of writing. So if you tell me a story, I’m just as happy to read it. If you show me, I’ll figure it out.

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Write a poem titled ‘witherwill’.

(Inspired by the Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows https://www.thedictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/concept/witherwill)

Witherwill

I won’t

Because you told me to

But somehow

You’re still the one in control

I am brightly dressed

A mess of ideas and oppositional joy

Because the world is dark

Covered in snow

There is war

Sorrow

Death

Violence

Hurt

And it is everywhere

And I push it away

I break myself trying to be bright

In my room at night I cry

In the bank I cry

You ask me if my food tastes alright

If everything is ok

I can’t say yes

I can say

There’s an asterisk on my joy*

*the world is fucking hard right now and probably always is and I just want world peace, and people not to hurt each other, and for food on everyone’s plates, and roofs over people’s heads, and I want parents and communities to love their children, and for children to be safe, and for the land to get its rights back, and for people’s access needs to be met, and for nature to reclaim what was and for capitalism to be over, and for beauty and love and laughter to prevail and for time to stop so I can catch my breath

But

I

Am

Joyful

By

Choice

February 8th, 2023

Heart,

Wake