Is there a classical text that inspired your writing?
The texts that inspired my poem are Mary Norton's The Borrowers and the play Peter Pan by James Matthew Barrie. When I was little I was in love with stories about fairies and little people, especially Tinkerbell and the borrowers: little people who lived inside the walls of people’s homes. I constantly tried to find them when I was a kid and eventually as time passed, I moved on and forgot about them, one of the many downsides of growing up. I wanted to touch upon the themes of maturing and the beauty of imagination and write it in a simple way everyone can relate to. Most importantly, I wanted to send a message that although one might mature, the elements of childhood will never be forgotten.
Were there other mythological stories you read in the class that gives (or might in the future give) inspiration for other stories?
I really loved the perspective of Circe in the excerpt that we have read in class. It told the story of Odysseus landing on the island of Aeaea in her point of view which changed the tone of the classic tale drastically. I am currently working on a short story about Athena’s perspective on the tale of Medusa!
The Fae
My grandmother used to tell me about the fae
Little beings that danced around the collard green grass that decorated our farm.
Their little feet planting success for the next harvest to come
They came
Every August, September, and October
Around the time our apples were at full growth
Our carrots thick as the marshes by the river
The fae gave us hope that we will win the year’s pumpkin contest
And ate all the weeds away.
At that young age I was determined to see the fae so
Every August, September, and October
I took the stepping stool from Uncle Tim’s shed
Snatched the jar of sugar from the second shelf and ran towards the orchard
Decorating the ground with roads full of sugar for the fae to feast on.
I never found the fae but found the rage of my uncle
Mad for feeding the fruit flies that ravaged our strawberry fields
Years went by and
I forgot about the fae
My imagination weakened like my grandmother
Who passed away that September
I was going to the orchard to pick an apple for late night’s pie
And that’s when I saw them.
Dancing around my grandmothers tree
Decorating the fruits with bite marks and pixie dust.
So that very day I knew
That the fae not only promised us a good harvest
But also my grandmother’s soul a safe journey home.