By Nicole Spector
As a child I never cared for poetry because I felt I couldn’t write it right. It employed structures that felt menacingly mathematical. Stanzas and couplets—how could I remember all that? I preferred the straightforward sloppiness of prose. But when I was 13, I discovered Sylvia Plath and became obsessed. I wrote poems that mirrored her style exactly and gave them to my mother, who read mostly Anne Rice. “Read this Sylvia Plath poem,” I would say.
She would. “I think you wrote this,” she would say. Bad answer.
Eventually I went to the Ouija board to share my newfound talent with dead relatives. One had helped me find lost jewelry in the past.
“Stick to stories,” a spirit told me.
When is the last time you tried or dedicated yourself to something that doesn’t come easily to you?
Nicole Spector is a writer and journalist living in New York. She is the author of Fifty Shades of Dorian Gray.