Perhaps to the chagrin of some of you, I’ve not had much to say on politics lately. I don’t know how else explain why that is other than to say that I’m having a hard time being interested at the moment. And this isn’t a first. My interests go through phases. I have no doubt my political interest will return and so too will future writing regarding politics (perhaps even next week, if some spark arises).
Though this arrest saga with Trump might indeed carry important ramifications, at the moment it doesn’t appeal to me. And though we’re in the midst of shooting season, these events don’t hold the same sort of sway over me either—mainly, with regard to the immediate debates that arise from them, as well as deep dives into motives, hoax-possibilities, and even the Left’s fetishization of the transgender shooter (it’s sad and sick but not surprising, especially considering it was a Christian school).
Of course 2024 is right around the corner. And perhaps once that election cycle truly ramps up, the interest will return in full. Even then, though, I get the feeling that my current hiatus will have a greater lasting effect on my overall view on politics than past retreats have had. I’ve written about the need to build, to partake in less talk and more doing, and yet it’s not lost on me that these appeals have appeared in my political posts. A form of contradiction? Perhaps. But only if I stop there.
Is steering away from writing mainly about politics a form of building, though? Or does building anew necessarily mean that I stop writing and instead participate in actual, tangible creation? In some respects, the answer here is yes. But when it comes to non-political writing that pertains to building a better future, I believe opportunity lies in the building up of the imagination. Getting people to dream as well as conjure up in their mind a more beautiful, less chaotic world.
This is why I find fiction writing, short as the stories in this newsletter may be, so important. There’s a certain genuine rawness to fiction that non-fiction is not able to replicate. And it is in this rawness that one sees the world for what it is as well as what it could be. It’s messy, which is of course a form of chaos. But the paradox here is that the messiness of fiction can create a more ordered world, as it positions the mind toward a desire for clarity, stronger boundaries, and established motives and desires.
Below is a portion of an email I wrote to a popular conservative news site, essentially of me offering up my services to help build a more well-rounded, imaginative Right. It was sent two months ago, and I’ve not yet heard back, so therefore don’t expect to at this point. Which is fine. I swung and missed. And I truly would prefer to continue creating the content I’m describing below for this newsletter. But as is the case with many writers, having access to and writing for a larger audience is a present and persistent desire.
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Where is the imagination?
I see cultural commentary. I see conjecture. I see, in most cases rightfully so, a bemoaning of the existing “culture.” But I don’t see creation.
Stories build foundations. Fiction brings light to non-fiction. And it is in this light that new foundations can be first imagined and then created.
When it comes to reading, most people, especially on the Right, prefer non-fiction to fiction. But what if it wasn’t so one-sided? What if the Right got better at story-envisioning and subsequently storytelling?
Currently, the Left dominates the story-telling industry, one that promotes victimhood, mainly of the manufactured sort, above all else. This is accepted because no alternatives are being told. No victors are being presented.
In order to begin storytelling, we have to breakthrough the lack of interest. One way to do that is to tell stories in short form. Fiction writing that can spark the imagination in 1,000 words or fewer.
To be read in 5 minutes. Perhaps in the parking lot before work. Perhaps briefly on a Saturday morning after a long week. The imaginative resolve gained in that short time can do wonders for a mind that endures hours of current-event drudgery.
These short fictions can be the beginning of a larger story whose foundation is begging to be laid.”
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I then linked to Emerging Narratives main page as well particular writings that fit the mold of what I described above. I’m sharing this with you for two reasons:
1) I simply thought you might find it interesting, and 2) It is further explanation as to why I dabble in fiction.
I thank you all for continuing to read Emerging Narratives, regardless of the content’s subject matter. If you read something and really like it, I ask that you share. If you read something you don’t necessarily like, I ask that you stick around because something you do might eventually come around. Not sure that that’s the greatest sales pitch ever—but oh well! Thanks so much.