Introductions are such a subjective thing. Do you tell the basic outline of your story in the hopes that somebody out there might want to read it? Do you talk about your influences, those people in your life that sparked your interest in writing, those authors whose books you just couldn’t put down? Do you talk about your ideas about the story, the meaning that it imparts to you, the small pieces of wisdom that you hope your reader will carry away with them after they have finished reading? To me, all of this seems like cheating. Instead, I would like my writing to speak for itself. Yes, I sat out to write a retelling of The Rape of Persephone with a specific purpose in mind. Has it changed since my idea took shape? Of course; it has changed so drastically, in fact, that many who heard my original idea may not recognize this final product. I would like to believe that this reflects are more mature view on the world, but perhaps it only reflects a more jaded one.

There are many who might read this story and think, wow, this person reminds me of so and so, or even, some: I remember the day when all of this happened. I remember Megan telling me about that dream; I remember saying those words to her. I will not lie, many of the scenes from this were taken from my life, and many of the characters could be called reflections of reflections of the people that I have known. Any writer that tells you otherwise is lying, or else completely blind to what is around them and their own influences.

Somebody once told me that every word that has even been written was a lie, these words have always stuck in my head. In a way it is true, whenever we put words down onto paper we begin to incorporate the tools of writing: description, metaphor, and comparison. All of the things make our subject more real to reader, but with each they become less real in this life, and more fictionalized. There is no writer, no matter how good, who can tell things exactly how they happened. In other words, this is my version of events, or anyways, it began as mine. Once upon a time I was Lily, and I ran away with a beautiful young man named Luke. Those of you that know will understand the reference, those of you that do not, will never need to. I am no longer Lily.

The novel has taken on character that is beyond me, that is beyond a longing for my youth and the dream that never quite came true. The story is no longer my tale but the story of Alexia, of Dalamar and Krystallyn, of Luke and Maure and Caster. It is a story that I no longer feel that I can keep to myself, and so at last I begin to task of sharing it with the world. -Megan Poirier