Heading home with new words and new resolve
a message to storytellers from my protagonist, my former self, and a few insightful writers
Sunlight sparkles on the subtle ripples of the heavy green water. I stare at the flickers, quick-moving reflections. It’s still early. I walked a mile and a half before finding this bench in the shade, and the sun is steadily rising. I am promised a brutally hot walk back to my room.
My legs pulse. I reach for the small notebook and pen in my pocket.
After a slow and searching day upon arriving at this writing residency, I got my flow. My new project no longer feels like a mere abstraction. There is a purpose behind it, and every word feels like it’s getting me a little closer to clarity.
The story I am writing will be my first historical novel, which is based on a defiant and groundbreaking woman in the late 19th century. Her story aligns with the Gilded Age, but she was not from privilege or wealth.
Upon researching her and drafting a few scenes, I already see many familiar longings for freedom and autonomy. She expressed the right to love and choose beliefs when so many wanted to impose their own.
I sit at the pond now, writing this, and imagining this woman beside me. If she were here, glimpsing the realities of 2025—the disillusionment and denial of truths, the burying of true stories beneath the watered-down excess of AI, what would she say?
I plan to reexamine her story through a modern lens through a young protagonist who discovers her, and I will share more as I progress. In the meantime, she is reminding me of the value of human stories, and how they are often kept from us, in whole or part.
I imagine asking this woman how she broke impossible barriers and displayed resilience at a time when women had no rights and no autonomy. How did she do it when her beliefs were demonized and her calls for freedom were ignored and suppressed?
I am still getting to know her, but I can imagine what she’d say: “There was nothing to lose and everything to gain.”
That, my friends, is true today, too.
Inspired by one woman’s life and my time with her story alongside the burgeoning interpretation of what it must’ve been like to be her, I feel renewed resolve to write everything I can from a place of integrity and candor. No matter the cost.
More, I feel a release. I am sitting with this story for the pure joy of it, and I will finish and share it no matter what.
Maybe by the time I finish this manuscript, it will drown beneath the digital noise. Maybe I will, too, but so be it. I have nothing to lose and everything to gain by being radically dedicated to what I love. I believe this to be true for all of us.
By the time you read this, I’ll probably be driving home, but I’m capturing the momentum I have at this pond. Because that’s the power of writing and story—the moments we capture, like tiny reflections dancing on water, that allow us to look back and remember what makes us who we are.
You might have noticed my blog name change. While the philosophy and meditations aren’t going anywhere, I process everything through writing, and I was recently inspired to start asking other amazing writers.
Why do you write?
: “I write to resurrect the life of my late husband, and our lives and stories. AI can’t do that. AI cannot spark aliveness, or remember. Re-membering is re-embodying; it’s what Isis did for Osiris. She found all of his scattered pieces and bound them tightly together with pieces of cloth. I am remembering my husband on pieces of paper, bound tightly together.”
: “Writing helps untie the knots I have become.”
: “Having served as an editor on books written by authors deeply dedicated to serving humanity – most notably, the instructive books of my spiritual teachers – I’ve long felt that the energy, or heart-mind, the particular feeling of the author’s words, conveys a meaning that goes well beyond those words. It’s distinctly human, and seems to issue from the somatic vibrancy of the human writer. AI might be able to imitate an existing writer’s voice, or invent a voice by cobbling together a conglomeration of voices, but will never be able to embody its own words so as to convey the special quality of deeply felt language. I write poetry for that genre’s unique ability to transcend the rules and tools of language, to say something unsayable!”
: “Humans do language. That’s what makes us unique among animals. We write stories using language to make meaningful connections with each other and the world around us.. That’s the whole ballgame.”
: The human voice is rooted in life experiences, and through those experiences connections are made. Humans are meant to read human words, and we thrive on connecting through shared experiences. That is what AI will always lack—the depth of living. I’ve spent the past seven years as a wanderer of wild places and living against the grain. It’s from this lifestyle that my writing is grounded in reflections and stories gathered along the way. I hope to inspire a shift, in perspective and mindset, through my written words.
I’ll post more of these over the next few weeks.
Monthly offering for subscribers: I’ll post a “Breath practices for frustrated creatives” course here on Friday w/o email. Check the “Here We Are” tab to access. Also, let’s meet June 21 at 12 ET.
Why do you write? Let me know.
Additional Prompt: Write a present-tense essay about your current process. What are you feeling, noticing, and thinking about it? What is your oh-so-human purpose? Is it murky or clear? Do you feel urgency around your project, or is there a deep and knowing patience?
Love the new title, Jen. Enjoy the rest of your retreat and congratulations on getting some traction on the new project.
“There was nothing to lose and everything to gain.” That line stopped me. I felt it in my chest. I can see how deeply connected you are to this woman’s story, and I admire the steady, honest, quietly defiant way you're bringing her to life. I’m inspired by your commitment to writing with integrity. It reminds me why I fell in love with storytelling in the first place. Thank you for sharing this moment so openly. This is the kind of work that gives history breath again.