We Live On Fascination

We can see from Emily Dickinson's poetry that she is, arguably, fascinated by death. And why shouldn't she be? Mortality - the inevitability of death - is a constant in our lives. We may not think about it every minute of every day, but it is nevertheless a part of life. Perhaps Dickinson had more close encounters with death than other authors or perhaps it was the fact that she lived a secluded life and she had time to muse and let her mind wander on the topic. 

Cheever had his fascinations, too; alcoholism crops up again and again in his work. His inability to let his characters live happily, always forcing them into self-sabotage somehow is probably a fascination in its own right.

But does that fascination necessarily mean that’s all a person can write about? Are dystopian fiction writers, like Suzanne Collins and Veronica Roth, obsessed with end-of-the-world scenarios where humanity has become irreparably corrupted? Are crime writers – Kathy Reichs, Lee Child, Patricia Cornwell – fixated on the motives and the means by which humans are capable or wronging one another? Who can say, I suppose.

What fascinates you as a writer?

It's a strange, introspective process to think about the underlying content of your own work. I suppose I'm fascinated by the fantastical - finding everyday occurrences in strange, novel situations. Even in a world where magic exists, where young girls slay dragons, where new worlds unfold in front of me, friendships and relationships and family still create conflicts.

And I hate to say goodnight, but this is it.