(From 2024)
I was thrilled to participate in an interview with Authority Magazine, back in 2021, to coincide with the release of my first poetry collection The Blackened Blues. Check it out in all its glory here, and the accompanying video here.
Some Things Considered with Sean Murphy is a reader-supported publication. To receive new posts and support my work, consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
What can writing poetry teach us about ourselves?
Poetry has the possibility of teaching us so many things, and in ways that cut across economic, geographic, and even historical barriers. An exceptional poem can present the lived experience of a life we don’t know or could only imagine, or it can remind us that most human beings are desperate for the same things: love, peace, understanding, justice, compassion, connection, beauty. Poetry works on macro and micro levels: it reveals recurring themes (good, bad, ugly) in human history, and homes in on what makes kings, soldiers, parents, orphans, the working poor and the wealthiest one percent identical: we all, on some level, are seeking meaning in our brief time on this planet. There is a quiet power in the ways poems unite communities.)
I was equally, if not more excited, to participate in another Q&A, this time around my new story collection This Kind of Man, which gave me not only a chance to discuss and describe this project, but also expand (expound?) on the power of storytelling.
It’s a pretty long feature, so I’ll leave some highlights and provide a link to the full conversation, here.
Can you describe how you aim to make a significant social impact with your book?
This Kind of Man seeks to pose a rhetorical question: how much of the anger and miscommunication that prevails in America is the result of an outdated and dysfunctional notion of masculinity? How does not being taught to communicate openly or honestly, or show vulnerability, or cultivate empathy result in an inevitable feeling of alienation, loneliness, and despair? By looking honestly at these questions, we might establish some positive dialogue that could lead to changes our typical political discourse is not facilitating.
Can you share with us the most interesting story that you shared in your book?
This collection is definitely not thinly veiled autobiography, but most fiction is inspired by true stories, or something the writer has heard or seen. In the case of the story “Winning,” I describe a father-son dynamic that is the exact opposite of my own. My dad is very much an “old school” type, but growing up, he would not tolerate poor sportsmanship, or bullying, and his Boston-Irish sensibility instilled in me an appreciation for the underdog. As such, I not only had a role model of positive masculinity, but can appreciate the ways less savory examples (from our fathers, teachers, coaches) lead to the types of toxicity I depict throughout my book.
What was the “aha moment” or series of events that made you decide to bring your message to the greater world? Can you share a story about that?
Before I was a writer, I was an avid reader. As someone whose life was profoundly impacted by the arts, I understood, early on, that creativity can provide insight, connections, and the aspiration to transcend our circumstances. Having personally been affected by the poetry, journalism, and fiction I’ve read, I believe writing has the magical power of reminding us that all barriers (cultural, language, historical) are less significant than our shared humanity. Some of the characters in my book represent the kinds of men who likely won’t (or can’t) tell their own stories, but I am convinced their stories need to be told, with curiosity, empathy, and respect.
Without sharing specific names, can you tell us a story about a particular individual who was impacted or helped by your cause?
Yes! I was at a reading event just last week, and a person approached me after and thanked me for writing a book that would help him talk to his own father. He admitted that he simply could not discuss politics or religion (and how many of us, especially in 2024, can relate to this?) with his dad, but he felt if his father read my book, it would provide an incentive, a sort of delivery device for the kinds of conversations they’ve never been able to have. This is precisely the type of response I hope my book can encourage; if anything I’ve written can help establish connection or prompt a more positive discussion, that’s the best outcome — and something I’d be gratified and humbled to play a small part in facilitating.
Are there three things the community/society/politicians can do to help you address the root of the problem you are trying to solve?
Yes! I not only write, but run a non-profit and direct a college program that focus on the power of storytelling. I believe sharing stories is the most effective way for human beings to feel heard, which leads to respect and compassion. So much of what we’re lacking today comes from a zero-sum game where one person or party has to “win” at all costs, and there’s no room for compromise. I think this carries over to the pathology of late-stage capitalism where we idly watch CEOs make millions (or billions!) while using a fixed system to avoid taxes while hard-working Americans have few exceptions or excuses — this breeds anger and a sense of injustice. I also think, while we’ve made significant strides, we still have a long way to go in terms of making our country a place where one’s sex, race, or status does not preclude them from living their best life. Instead of the backward and embarrassing move to ban books, we should be celebrating the ways art challenges and inspires us.
Can you please give us your favorite “Life Lesson Quote”? Can you share how that was relevant to you in your life?
I seize any opportunity to invoke George Orwell, a writer whose influence has been indescribably positive. In his immortal essay “Why I Write” he states “the opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.” He is not only correct, but this single sentence illustrates the way he was able to succinctly articulate the deepest truths. I’ve kept this quote in mind throughout my writing life, and it serves as both guide and inspiration for remembering that the purpose of art is to elucidate, to convince, to connect.




