presents “Two Voices” – a discussion about writing
by 2 writers, Alfred Brown and Anh Thi
(male) ALFRED What kind of writer am I? I am… Reluctant. Unrepentant. Ashamed. Angry. |
(female) ANH What kind of writer am I? I am a crazy, hardworking, foolish dramatist. |
| RELUCTANT to call myself one, as it is not a proud claim. A paid writer, that is different, and even then, a well-paid writer is all that really matters. It is easy to find someone to pay you pennies to blog. But an un-paid, low-paid writer? Better keep that to yourself. | Crazy:
I think anyone who gets into any artistic field is a bit crazy. Because artists don’t see the world like most people. We stand outside the box, while trying to live in the box because that’s where most of our friends and family are. And it does drive us a bit crazy living inside the box, but forever lured to step out of bounds. |
| UNREPENTANT in knowing my transgression and yet still continuing to transgress. And the only penance/salvation is to stop, get a job I hate, and make money. Because words alone cannot feed a family. Will writing make me better at a job that makes me money? Maybe, but that doesn’t justify not spending my time on improving directly transferrable skills or the job itself. | Hardworking:
Writing is an obsession, and when I start, I keep going. That’s where the hardworking part comes into play. I have written until my eyes ached, my fingers cramped, and my body hurt. But that’s a price I’ll pay to write. |
| ASHAMED in how much writing I’ve done. I have mountains of writing. Every genre. Every format. And it seems like no one wants to read it, even I. Maybe they would if I knew how to package it, sell it, and sell myself in the process.
It seems the only people who succeed are those who are both a writer and a salesman. That’s a very small section of people, as writing is a solitary act, and sales is very much not. Supposedly they have agents for people to bridge that gap, but the big agents don’t take submissions, and the small ones are a crapshoot for quality. You’re supposed to go through the small ones, many who supposedly won’t do a thing for you, and work up to big ones, and still you’re selling yourself, just now first to the agents, the middle men. I don’t want to do any of that, I just want to write. I remember thinking in my MPW program (Masters of Professional Writing), why don’t they have a cross-departmental program for the people learning to be writers with the people learning to become agents? Why can’t we help each other instead of “here’s your diploma, go figure out how to wave it in front of the right faces.” I don’t like to wave anything in front of anyone. I wrote to the department, but nothing came of it—like so much of what I write, I wonder if anyone even really read it. |
Foolish:
It is foolish to drive yourself to the brink for such a thankless activity. Writing doesn’t pay, and it takes years to master. That’s thousands of hours of working at writing to get proficient, then good, then hopefully mastering your craft. Foolish is continuing despite people thinking you are wasting your time, who will not read or think about the work you’ve spent hours, months and years agonizing over. Foolish is ultimately not caring what anyone thinks. Why? Because you have to write. It’s in your DNA. And so I continue to write because being foolish is better than never writing again. |
| ANGRY in myself in being angry at the system and not working in or around the system to become a well-paid writer. I know how it works, or at least I think I do, so why do I just complain about it?
I know I can’t change it, and I know it won’t go away, and I know that just hating it won’t accomplish a thing. And yet I feel so defeated by it all. By the connections. By the networking. By the self-promotion. And then I don’t hate the system nearly as much as I hate myself, as I know within me I could probably work around it, and not become corrupted by it, but it still is so odious. And there’s so much else too. Like where does one put their emphasis? Which project? Two nights ago, I was up and couldn’t sleep. I told my girlfriend I wasn’t afraid of failure. I was afraid that there’s a threshold of how much failure I think I’ll allow myself before I think, “gotta get that job I hate.” So, though I know failure is necessary, if I avoid actually putting it out there, I can avoid the failures, and then I can avoid hitting the threshold. I can still write this way, still do creative things. But I know it’s a fool’s way. And that’s why I’m angry, angry that I can see how I’m acting foolish, and yet am not correcting my actions. |
Dramatist:
I think everyone has a style they gravitate towards. Some writers are uniquely gifted to be comedians, romantics, or idealists. I am a dramatist. I go dark because I am fascinated by the interplay of good and bad, purity and evil, and walking the line between the yin and yang of it. I have tried to write happy – fairytales and such, but it tends to twist towards a story that offers insight and catharsis into humanity. I write what I am curious about, and human foibles fascinate me. Thus, I cannot help but stray into the thick of the drama of our human lives. And that is why I identify as a dramatist. |