| (female) ANH |
(male) ALFRED |
| To be a writer is to be an artist. To want to create something that you want to share with others, even though you may never do so. |
To be a writer, is to be an addict. Otherwise, you are just someone who writes. Be it recreationally or when a task requires. |
| Why not share? Because you’re crippled by doubt and ego. That little voice in your head whispering, “you’re not good enough. What you wrote could be so much better!” And your ego stops you before it can be wounded by public opinion. |
A druggie versus a recreational drug user. A drunk versus an occasional imbiber of libations. A smoker versus “hey give me a drag of that while we stand outside the bar waiting for Uber to take us home.” |
| A writer writes, though, no matter what. Even if it doesn’t end up seeing the light, a writer is a slave to the need to write, to express, to create, to endeavor to give life to an idea or a thought. |
A writer writes when it’s wrong. A writer writes when it makes him later to that social event he promised to attend, her sad when relatives want her to come downstairs and make a gay appearance, him up all night when his body begs him to actually get some rest, her reliving that tragic moment when it just aggravates her PTSD. |
| It’s an addiction. A method of torture, always reaching for that perfect way to “write that,” and never quite feeling like you’ve attained mastery despite toiling endlessly in hours, weeks, months and even years! |
That’s addiction. When you go out of your way to do something that you know, long term, is probably not a good idea. Obviously, it must satisfy something short term. It must be gratifying. |
| Am I gratified to write? Be a writer? I can’t say it has been a gratifying experience. Troublesome, yes. Lonely, yes. Maddening, yes. Satisfying on a level I cannot communicate, definitely! |
And it gratifying to quite a few people. That’s why there is no shortage of writers. Nor musicians. Nor teachers. Though society says over and over we value these people, it’s clearly supply and demand when it comes to direct compensation. Thus, they make very little money on average, and yet there is still no shortage. |
| It makes no sense to write, when there is no reward in the most common understanding of what it means – to receive benefits. Usually there are no payments, no accolades, no honors equal to a writer’s effort. |
The “smart” ones say, well, I don’t hate spreadsheets as much as I hate not being able to provide for my family, or pay for that operation I might to have one day, or (depending on your socio-economic context) having at least one thing to eat every day. Sure, I love writing, but spreadsheets it is! |
| Why continue? Because discouragement is just a phase. Because failure and discontent cannot compare to the wonder and intensity of those outbursts of language and style. Those moments when you are fire burning bright, so bright that nothing and no one – time, opinions, doubt and worry – can stop you being the writer by writing. |
And that’s been me most of my life, at least professionally. Because the non-addicts will discourage you! Many addicts will also discourage you. Most addicts that encourage are seemingly in denial about their financial pain, the rest are the very few who have actually had significant monetary success–either way they are speaking from their own skewed perspective. |
| And then you stop writing, and life, love, job, and the state of your finances distract you from the need to voice yourself. But a true writer keeps coming back to the craft because it’s a wondrous thing to walk in a new world, meet new characters, and contemplate the expression of an idea framed by the prism of your mind, heart and soul. |
But there are more non-addicts than addicts, and they remind you over and over that writing is no way to make a living. So, even though I had desire to do it before puberty, even at that age I was aware of this pressure. I thought it would be just as foolish to say “I want to be a writer” as to say “ballerina” or “astronaut.” Might as well expect to be the first ballerina/astronaut on the moon, making one small pirouette for fantasy-addled kind. |
| The written word is much maligned as a tool of (mis)communication. It is used poorly and ineffectively by many. Because we are lazy creatures. But when words are used well and delivered thoughtfully, it creates bridges, sparks discussion and foments rebellion from the tyranny of the small-minded (what we think we believe is a small world to live in). Writers do a service by opening up possibilities, and that’s what it means to be a writer to me. |
And, yet, I still wrote. I kept writing. You might think it was because somewhere along the line I disagreed with my younger self, but that’s never really happened. It’s just that sometimes I can better ignore that child’s voice of reason than the voices others. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be a writer. I’d just be someone who sometimes writes. |
presents “Two Voices” – a discussion about writing