On Nov. 11, 2005, former high school English teacher Patricia Bracewell wrote the following words in her journal: “I have decided to write the Emma novel. I want to try it. If I fail, I fail—but if I don’t try, I can never succeed.”

On February 8, 2013, Bracewell was giving a phone interview, exhausted and exhilarated by the previous day’s launch of “the Emma novel,” an historical fiction entitled Shadow on the Crown.

It’s been so, so stupid in political La-La Land of late. Bad stupid! One might have thought we’d enjoy a reprieve after the presidential elections. But, no. And there’s just so much stupidity one can tolerate. I’m at capacity. Maybe worse. Beyond the point of satiety, my dear, darling father might have said. When he was above ground, routinely forming complex sentences with multisyllabic words. And gently chuckling at the world’s idiots.

But I’m not laughing. That’s for sure. Not that I haven’t tried.

Why do we write poetry? Is it for ourselves as much as for others, a way to confront, explore, capture a fragment of enlightenment? Do we write poetry to cleanse us of corruption, remind us of our limitations, celebrate our vision, our diversity, to reveal a human tragedy in art?*

(Note, 11 Nov 2012: On November 7, the nation’s evolving attitude toward same-sex marriage was demonstrated at the polls in Maine, Maryland, Minnesota and Washington, where voters supported the right to marry. And the reaction from Brian Brown, Executive Director of the National Organization for Marriage?