I love reading books where it is immediately evident the author is at play. Play requires a kind of fearlessness. It pushes the boundaries of a poem or story in ways that can lead to wonder, and wonder can lead to discovery. When asked what drove him to write, James Baldwin replied: “Something that irritates you and won’t let go. That’s the anguish of it. Do this book or die.” But anxiety can arise from this do-or-die feeling about writing. This is why, as editors and publishers, our sacred duty is to encourage play. It can be scary for writers to loosen their grip on the work and experiment, but play makes writing seem less scary and more fun. As creatives, we should emulate children. When children are at play, they’re in a world full of worlds, whimsically creating whatever they need to keep their energy going.
The following examples of play resonate: Marwa Helal’s “The Arabic”—a type of poem she invented to be read from right to left, in the manner of Arabic—has revitalized the concept of form in poetry. The surrealist imagery in Darla Himeles’s debut, Cleave, transforms moments of trauma and dissociation into imagistic metaphor. In his poem, “The Chess Men,” Nkosi Nkululeko defies and reinvents the narrative tether with his experimental structure.
So, writers: Play to your heart’s content. Don’t worry; you’re not going to break anything.
—Roberto Carlos Garcia, founder, president, and editor of Get Fresh Books