Poetry as an Art Form and the Dreaming Novelist

“I resonate more with an experience that has settled into my bones, and with that I’m able to tell a story. I’m able to paint a picture with my experiences as a backbone, I’m able to reinstate my understanding of what it means to be up late at night drowning under a wave of incomprehensible emotion. Sometimes I forget just how much that contributes to my craft and where I want to be in life.”

I woke up incredibly early this morning, and that says a lot, for the past few weeks I haven’t been awake until midday. I spent some quality time with my writing, focusing on getting the basis of this storyline finished whilst I lend my time to getting somewhere with the plot. Once you’ve met the middle of your novel, it gets harder to progress because the newfound excitement of the idea weakens and you’re left trying to figure out how to keep it going.

I’ll say that even within this struggle, I’ve still managed to put words on a page and get each chapter finished. I’ve never been the kind of writer that could take a break from a current project for too long, I lose interest too quickly. My biggest struggle is keeping myself engaged, long enough to keep those who will read it engaged. The only time I find myself not directly involved with my characters is when I’m off writing poetry. Recently, I’ve been drawing on a lot of old emotion, a lot of what was put to bed ages ago. I’ve realized that I’ve spent too much time writing about writing, and I’ve been putting off the emotion that made my poetry authentic in the past.

So, I’ve started a three part short that will explore a part of me that I haven’t seen in years. The first piece is above, and it explores the will to tell a story to come, one I have kept bottled. However, if there’s one place I want to keep things real, it’s in my poetry. Poetry is an art form, a form of expression that differentiates itself from our ability to tell it like it is. It causes us to think, it causes unto draw our own conclusions. 

What I’ve begun to realize, is that as I’m getting older, I’m losing touch with the person that started writing as a way to express what I was feeling. Now, because I look at writing as a lifestyle choice, something that gives me a certain satisfaction once completed, I do not allow for much of my real, raw emotion as opposed to something I create to paint an image of the idea I have. So, with that being said, I want to fill my collection with what I’m feeling personally for a change, so that I too will have something to resonate with when I look back on it and remember what it felt like to be right here at this point in my life: happy, content, and driven. 

Love, Anisa Nasir (3)


  1. Thanks for visiting and liking The Fiend.

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