Lit Chat

Inspiration for being human.

What Really Matters, Word Choice, Naming Our World, and Questions We Ask Ourselves 

Thursday April 30, 2026

Happy Thursday humans! Here is this week's literary inspiration for being human...

Let's consider what really matters...

Perhaps we should all have a little bit of "does this really matter?" in our days. Asking this question helps us live our values and align our words and actions with a sense of purpose. It also reminds us of the tension between realizing the relative insignificance of our daily work versus the knowledge that small, seemingly insignificant actions can make a world of difference—tiny actions can be significant in ways that may go unseen, unrecognized, unacknowledged, and uncelebrated. Perhaps part of our humility—and humanity—is derived from our consideration of and relationship to the "does this really matter?" question and our constant awareness of the tension within it. 

How often do you confront this question "does this really matter?" At any given moment, what is your response to it? 

Let's discuss word choice...

“... old

storefronts face the road, black iron bars over windows and doors,
signs stating business

names that announce a purpose. Pawn Shop. Liquor Store. Church
of the Holy Redeemer. Gas Station. Food Depot. Clinic. Pay Here.”

—"Of the Things That We Should Know By Now" in Woman Outside the City)

What kind of world do you present with your language? What possibilities does your word choice invite? In what ways does your word choice prevent possibilities? In what ways does your word choice limit creativity, ingenuity, curiosity, excitement, or joy?

Let's find words to name our world...

Y’all, this weekend I felt like a kid again, discovering treasures I didn't even know existed. I was exploring literary magazines online and found two that feature speculative poetry, which is the genre term I would use to describe Woman Outside the City. 

The term "speculative poetry" comes from "speculative fiction," which is a subgenre of science fiction. Southern New Hampshire University offers a great definition of speculative fiction: 

“General fiction or realistic fiction is typically bound to reality. Speculative fiction freely explores possibility and impossibility alike.” 

The words possibility and impossibility are key; speculative fiction involves scenarios that reflect reality but that also include "impossible" or surreal elements. Speculative poetry does this using poetic form.

I especially love the poem "A War of Words" by Marie Brennan, which won the 2025 Hugo Award for Best Poem in contemporary science fiction and fantasy. Using purposely vague language, Brennan conjures a speaker who experiences increasing difficulty in naming and explaining the world. As the speaker tries to explain that "things"—especially words—are being taken away, the loss of language multiplies the profound loss that the speaker is experiencing because it leaves the speaker unable to fully express themselves or the world. This phenomenon is at the heart of the idea of newspeak in George Orwell's dystopian classic 1984, and it also reminds me of the following quote from youth activist Yael Crupnicoff:

Playing with language and struggling to accurately put ideas and knowledge into words allows us to name the world, and, in turn, to share ownership of it, and participate more fully in shaping it. 

What do you do when word choice matters? How might the imaginative and fantastical aspects of speculative poetry help us explore and expand possibility in our lives?

Let's listen to the questions we ask ourselves...

Each morning, I spend at least 10 minutes meditating, guided by one of the videos from my meditation playlist. This morning, I listened to a video called "Ask and You Shall Receive" and the following lines resonated with me:

"The questions we ask ourselves determine the kinds of answers we receive... Ask yourself empowering questions sparked by your curiosity."

This piece of advice feels like a wonderful way to expand the possibilities in my life. It's a shift in thinking that I have been trying to make for the past several years—it seems simple, but it actually takes a lot of practice in order for it to become second-nature. Throughout the process of writing Woman Outside the City, I kept coming back to this practice of asking questions that expand possibilities, and it is one of the themes that runs throughout the book. Yet, I still struggle to practice this consistently, and there are many times when I get stuck or frustrated in life because I forget to revise the questions I'm asking myself.

What questions are you asking yourself? How can your shift your questions to expand possibilities for your life?

Bricolage Lit Adventures