In my previous blog post(s) [which may have been deleted -Ed.] I began outlining the "resume of a writer" and a few personal anecdotes about myself and my love of reading, which in high school led me to the path of poetry, inspired by Jim Morrison, William Blake, Arthur Rimbaud, Allen Ginsberg, Jack Kerouac and Nietzsche.
Or so I believed at the time. The time I wrote that, like a year ago or something. Who can keep track of time these days? To quote Blake:
The hours of folly are measured by the clock,
but the hours of wisdom, no clock can measure.
(I think. I'm quoting from memory.)
Recently, however, as I have been revisiting my favorite series of fantasy novels from middle school yet again (so many times I've re-read them, only The Birth of Tragedy and Genesis come close) I realized that not only did the DragonLance novels by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman make me want to be a writer, but the songs and poems contributed to the books by Michael Williams (along with the rap music I had just started listening to that same summer) turned me into a lover of poetry, which, aside from family and food, is still my primary interest.
But before we get to the poetry, let's start with the stories as such. I was on vacation for a week with my family. My mother brought my sister and I to a children's bookstore to pick out some beach reading material. I really loved to play in the water much more than get burnt and people-watch, but you did need some time to dry off before getting back in the car and it was nice to have a book to read while you lay there. And so in that summer, ironically, I started Dragons of Autumn Twilight, the first book in the series.
Actually I didn't start reading it at the beach, but in the livingroom of the place where we were staying, in the evening time, by the light of a green lamp, sitting in a green chair [this is how most of my autobiographical novellas a-la Kerouac usually begin, incidentally.] Everyone who has ever been to Solace remembers where they were when they first encountered an old dwarf sitting by the roadside, whittling. The rest of you have no idea what I'm talking about. And that's OK. DragonLance are the greatest books ever written, but I don't need to convince anyone of my truth. I'm living it.
I fell in love instantly, especially once we start to learn about the morally dubious but wise-beyond-his-years frail young wizard Raistlin Majere, and his twin brother Caramon. (As a pre-teenage boy I also became slightly titillated by the vague rumours of their older half-sister---but you'll have to read the books, and not just the first one, to learn herstory.) Raistlin saw everything age and decay before his eyes, a curse as penalty for his power and ambition, which prevented him from appreciating human beauty: while I did not have this condition myself, I became almost oblivious to all the bikini'd bottoms at the beach that ordinarily would have been so distracting, as I found myself hooked on the novel and couldn't stop reading it, at the ocean, on the car ride back with Mariah Carey and Roger Troutman and Bone Thugs N' Harmony playing on the radio, and back at the place we stayed eating pizza, fried chicken and soft-serve ice cream in between games of Monopoly and Seinfeld reruns.
After the vacation was over, when we got back home I had to go out and buy the complete trilogy, The DragonLance Chronicles: a big, phone-book sized paperback. Very recently they re-released the Chronicles in a beautiful hardcover edition (some say bound by Bertrem himself.) Go out and buy it today! (Or for you freeloading cheapskates, look for it at your local library.) You may even get to see a wild elf bathing in the silver moonlight...
By wintertime I went out and bought the second trilogy, DragonLance Legends. Some fans end up liking these books even more. All I can say is: they take me back in time.
Meanwhile I started trying to write my own fantasy novel; or short story, who's to know. I never got more than a couple of pages into one of these before some gully dwarf found herself in a sex scene and I became distracted from the writing process altogether...
Some day I will finish my fantasy novel, or even a long work of fiction per-se. Until then I'll keep shopping around my short stories, writing these blogs, and work on getting a second collection of poetry into print. Speaking of, I heard it through the grapevine Michael Williams has a new book-length poem coming out soon, which I believe will be called Farewell Tour. Look for it wherever you buy poetry---does anybody buy poetry anymore? Even I don't, as often as I should. Probably the last time was as a gift for my wife. Of course, I've been writing them for her myself since at least the last time the three moons were in alignment: and for that I imagine she should be at least a little thankful to Michael Williams: Poet, friend, Bodhi.
poetry by Michael Williams, read by @dGabeEvau
"A Peaceful Interlude" is a chapter title from Dragons of Autumn Twilight by Margaret Weis & Tracy Hickman (with poetry by Michael Williams & art by Larry Elmore.) DragonLance began as a game module/campaign setting designed by Hickman and his wife for the Advanced Dungeons & Dragons roleplaying game (RPG.) AD&D and DragonLance were originally published by TSR; I believe they are now owned by Wizards of the Coast (or is it just Wizards?) but, again, I read a lot of old editions and library books, so what do I know? I could never get anybody to play Dungeons and Dragons with me as a kid, but I loved letting the worlds take me very far in my own imagination. Go read a book right now. Get off your screen and device. Read. And then write. Genre doesn't matter. Then go for a walk. Cook some spiced potatoes or other easy comfort food, instead of tipping some delivery driver for dropping off cold food and the chef's cold to go with it. Have a mug of ale or a glass of red wine (just lay off the dwarf spirits) or just a cup of herbal tea, get cozy by the fireplace and let an old man tell you some forgotten children's stories. Or if you're feeling lonely, go to some tavern for the locals and listen to the enchanting song of an Indigenous tribeswoman.
Anyway, that's my two steel pieces. I'm just paying it forward. These books changed my life, and are still doing so. Now, I've got to look for a better job and also have a book to finish writing. How does that spell go, again?
The above blog was composed with Bic pen on a few blank pages stolen from an old notebook I was searching through for poems to publish, and typed up on my wife's laptop while I waited for her to get out of bed, thinking: maybe today I will give up coffee, and just drink some crushed herbs in boiling water like our friend Raistlin.
Related articles by this author:
Weasel's Luck by Michael Williams (book review)
Dragons of Deceit by Margaret Weis & Track Hickman (book review)
copywrong 2026 Dissociated Press
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