It’s been too long since I have written fiction.
Though sonnets with my talent set align,
I can’t deny my potent predilection
For telling tales of more than fourteen lines.
And so I wrestled with a piece of writing
That previously had given me some trouble,
Whose characters just wanted to keep fighting,
And so my prior efforts I redoubled.
I let myself explore the foolish fancy
Of giving the first scenes a good rewrite.
Though unfamiliar genres can be chancy,
A part of me just knew that it was right.
The fictional inertia has been routed-
But then I had to write a poem about it.