Miniature Gods

by Bradey Resulta

My aptitude for writing is rooted in something deeper than a general appreciation. Like most writers, my initial understanding of the power of language has been adopted through habitual reading. As an extremely anxious, unmedicated, child, reading became my coping mechanism that provided me with alternate realities in which I felt safe. In retrospect, I was partaking in a level of escapism that allowed me to experience definite endings with clear resolutions. However, when I began to explore deeper connotations beyond the literal story within the text, I understood that stories are more so about sharing an experience with the audience. Our ability, as readers, to understand and empathize with fictional characters and exaggerated plots is both humbling and unsettling. When we choose to shift our power from being the audience, to being the creator, it is our responsibility to understand that the experiences we share will undoubtedly provide the same level of escapism and connection we crave every time we enter a new story. The amount of power a writer holds is unfathomable, and when yielded responsibly, can influence an audience beyond a shallow interpretation.

I am not embarrassed to say that my indulgence in writing did not occur until my undergraduate years. Throughout my K-12 education, I was always told I was a good writer; however, it was not until college that I was exceptionally challenged and presented with the proper tools to fine tune my skills. However, it was an experience outside of the classroom that prompted me to begin to completely delve into the world of writing. The same social anxieties that I experienced as a child, reoccurred in my life as an adult. Around the time of this recurrence, I was in a Creative Writing course where I found myself writing my best pieces during periods of emotional turmoil. Initially, I did not make this connection. However, throughout the last couple of years I have noticed an obvious pattern where writing has replaced the previous sought out escapism that I obtained through reading.

There are two reasons why I believe my preferences evolved from being an audience member to being the creator. The first being that I find solace in the isolation that writing provides me. We currently live in a society where everything about our lives is articulated in a way that it is meant to be public. I often find myself feeling obligated to entertain my friends, family, and random strangers (undoubtedly) with updates about my life. This is what I’m having for dinner, here’s my stance on today’s political climate, look at this cute picture of my cat. The constant updating and sharing tends to make me feel as if my life is not my own; that I am living for others to watch without understanding. When I write, it happens with such intensity that the feeling is akin to tunnel vision. There is nothing in the world that is capable of distracting me when I feel the yearn to write. I do not feel guilty for closing my social media apps, declining a call, or leaving a text message unread. Others might say that such silence makes them uncomfortable, but in reality, writing is anything but quiet. The real discomfort is the accountability you feel when you see your thoughts displayed on a page.

The second, and most profound, reason as to why writing is my preferred method of escapism comes down to the desire to control my circumstances. When I find myself in a situation and its outcome is beyond my control, I often feel as if I am voiceless in the matter. Writing not only gives me a voice, but it allows me to regain the power that I was stripped of. A certain professor at my undergraduate university described writers as ‘miniature gods’. At first, I thought heresy; however, after some contemplation, I found the description fitting. There are authors who have created complex languages and universes that are utterly believable. As writers, we have the power to determine every minute detail of someone’s life. We get to decide what the characters eat for breakfast, the color of their hair, and whether they turn left or right at a stop sign. Of course, the smaller details account for something bigger. The overall purpose of the story is the most pertinent matter. However, as writers we have the ability to manipulate what others see as ‘insignificant’ moments or descriptions and give them a greater purpose. Perhaps, I understand the importance of the smaller moments in life. When I find others taking my details for granted, I regurgitate their significance in the form of a story.

This goes to say that every story I write is inspired by a tangible experience. I find that a story is more believable when the underlying emotions have truly been felt, and when the message desperately needs to be spoken into existence. The professor previously mentioned, often quoted Marianne Moore from her poem, “Poetry.” She describes poems as, “…imaginary gardens with real toads in them” (1935). This perspective relates to all forms of writing and is not exclusive to poetry. Since the majority of my writing comes from rather emotionally rigorous moments in my life, not every story is what others would describe as ‘pleasant.’ Through my writing, it is my goal to expose the ugly and the grotesque aspects of life. Not every moment is enjoyable, and I believe that stories that solely focus on the beautiful wonders causes a de-normalization of what is undoubtedly humane. I can compare it to the celebrities that airbrush their bodies for the sake of an ‘acceptable’ photo. My stories should make my readers feel uncomfortable because they are unpleasant, yet relatable. It is my hope that my writing creates an epiphany within my readers, to help them realize they are not alone.

 We often try to ignore the unorthodox parts of our imagination. As we constantly process new information, or ponder false scenarios in our head, we tend to keep it bottled up. It is almost as if we drink a gallon of water and resist our body’s urge to use the bathroom. If you ever find yourself asking a hypothetical question, create an answer for yourself. As miniature gods, we are more than capable of answering the question: What if? It is a simple question, yet we are often intimidated by the complex nature of the possible answers. In writing, there is no right or wrong way to answer, it just is. I advise my fellow writers to take advantage of their freedom to create. There are worlds that have yet to be discovered, all at the hands of a writer. Indulge in your passions, explore the labyrinth of your mind, and reinvent your toads.

Bradey Resulta is a recent graduate of Marian University (WI). She obtained her bachelor's degree in Writing, accompanied by a minor in Culture, Media, and Gender Studies in 2020. Much of her work explores the unorthodox, yet substantial, moments that account for our humanity. Samples of her creative work can be found in her portfolio: clippings.me/bradey