If I have any talent as a writer, most of the time I waste it. Most of the time I exist passively, reactively. If I write, I rarely get lost in the act, and on the occasion that I do get lost in it, get carried away with the process of selecting and layering words and sentences, it is usually about something meaningless, if you inspect it in the grand scheme of things.
Why is this? I think I really enjoy writing, and I think I understand the power of such an art form. Written words resound long after they are written, long after they are read. I realize this, so why can’t I discipline myself–first to write with regularity, and second to write something of importance? I’ve been sitting on a draft about Darfur for the past couple of weeks and I can’t bring myself to finish it. Why? Isn’t the issue of genocide a bit more consequential than the story of how I lost my favorite sweatshirt? But if I only write about Darfur two times a year, doesn’t that make me the worst kind of hypocritical “activist?” And if I write about it every day doesn’t that simultaneously give me the airs of self righteousness and send me into guilt-wracked depression? Not to mention won’t all of you stop reading this, maybe? What am I supposed to do when the most urgent matters facing us are so unpopular and so unpleasant? And why do I have to use so many questions when I write about my personal issues of conscience and writing? Why can’t I just feel good about what I am doing?
Part of me feels like I either have to do it or not do it. Either I devote every page of this blog to things that I find truly pressing–things like social justice and God and creative responsibility (wasn’t that the initial point of this new blog, after all?), either I do that, or I throw it all out and write about television and bizarre dreams and what I ate for lunch that day. Either it is everything or nothing, because that is just the way I think, I have never been good with the middle ground, not in anything.
But part of me knows the danger of committing to something greater than I can handle. I can be roused to passion about a cause, but I don’t know if I can maintain that passion daily, which might make me a crummy human being but does it make me a crummy writer, to admit that shortcoming? I would consider this something of an internal crisis, and I would gladly hear any kind of advice or suggestions you have on the matter.
What is my obligation as a person who thinks and a person who writes? Can I get away with writing for fun, or is that completely irresponsible? And if so, is there a balance, and if so, how do I find it?
4 Comments
I guess you started this to be able to write, beyond the fact if it is about Darfur or about a stain on the bottom part of your sofa. Why spend half an hour watching TV when you could spend sharing about Frosted Flakes and maybe even developing a skill or two on the way or touching a Godsent topic?
Giving thought to Darfur and similar topics might be important, giving away our comforts for such things might be more important yet, but maybe you are focusing on giving something you don’t necessarily have to give, or giving it in a way that you are not being called to give it (these are just things to ponder more than suggestions of what is happening). Pray to God to tell you what you must do for Darfur—be it absolutely nothing or flying there personally—and accept it and do it. I guess there are a few things you could ponder: Is your writing really going to make a difference in itself? Is writing about it what you need to do about it? Is writing seemingly inconsequential things beneficial for yourself? Is it for anyone in the world? If you can’t know, have you asked God to see if you should continue any and only in faith hope that writing about a dream might be of a certain value to any one person in the universe in God’s elaborate plans? Could your inconsequential ramblings eventually give you more power as a writer for when your writing can actually be consequential when it is actually sought after by God to be so, be it about Darfur, the heath care system, or about a brother or sister in need? Is there any leave from God to write about pancakes? Is there any leave from God to write about Darfur? I guess when writing as in everything else (especially when you want it to mean something), that’s the one thing you want to know and that’s the only way meaningful will really be meaningful.
You can get away with writing for fun, you’re good at it.
Bea: I came by following a comment you left on my blog. I believe the problem with the sidebar might be because of the template you have selected. I am unable to find what template you are using. I did not do anything specific to make the sidebar appear on each post as well. As for the code that appears with the statcounter widget, I believe it is treating the script as text and displaying it as is. You might want to play around with the ending tags to find out if the match the header tags.
On a separate note, I can identify with the situation you mention in this post. I wanted to write about thought provoking stuff but end up with a blogger’s block if one exists so what I ended up doing was to follow my heart and write what came naturally.
I would actually say that if you aren’t writing for fun, you shouldn’t be writing. While the serious issues involved in Darfur and other topics you might want to tackle in your blog aren’t fun themselves, the writing should be. The puzzling (by which I mean putting together of puzzle pieces) should be the same whatever your topic.
On the other hand, I know exactly how you feel. As an (overly?!) educated person with solid writing skills, I often wonder if I should be doing more than writing poems and stories and thinking about writing books. But those things are important too. And if writing about what you ate for lunch has people’s interest (which it does!), getting people to read about any subject from your perspective is a cool cool thing.
p.s. I think we can be great friends.