Fantasy doesn’t have to be fantastic. American writers in particular find this much harder to grasp. You need to have your feet on the ground as much as your head in the clouds. The cute dragon that sits on your shoulder also craps all down your back, but this makes it more interesting because it gives it an added dimension.
There are several kinds of love. One is a selfish, mean, grasping, egotistical… The other is an outpouring of everything good in you… The first kind can make you sick and small and weak but the second can release in you strength, and courage and goodness and even wisdom you didn’t know you had.
This is from Nabokov. How could he write with such precision? Phrases like “a longing with nothing to long for” give voice and shape to emotional experiences that are tremendously complex and abstract. I’m in awe.
The trouble is not that I am single and likely to stay single, but that I am lonely and likely to stay lonely.
Life starts all over again when it gets crisp in the fall.
— F. Scott Fitzgerald (The Great Gatsby)
“i’m gonna write” i whisper as i don’t
That is part of the beauty of literature. You discover that your longings are universal longings, that you’re not lonely and isolated from anyone. You belong.