My husband hates reading, loathes writing and has been known to sneeze at the sight of books. In spite of this, or, I secretly suspect, because of this, he occasionally comes out with some absolute gems. His metaphors are frequently mixed but often ingenius, and his observations insightful. One that struck me at the time and has subsequently stuck with me was something he said when the Small Person was about six weeks old - and it meshes nicely with the Busyness article from the other day.
I can't remember the phrasing, but the gist was this: everyone complains that kids make you busy, and to some extent that's true. But mostly, if you treat it right, kids are the world's best excuse for slowing down. Everything takes ten times longer, which can be stressful if you're trying to do as much as you did before. But if you treat parenthood as the opportunity to weed out everything that doesn't matter and just focus on what does, life becomes slower, and so, so much more meaningful.
One day, I'll make him read this. For now, suffice to say that I'm glad I married him. <3
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
Showing posts with label meaning. Show all posts
04 August 2012
13 February 2011
That We May Ever Strive
I should probably point out that I've switched the blog schedule around. At this point, I'm planning to post Tuesdays and Fridays. As we can see, I totally rock at keeping this schedule already. *insert Look here* So, let's all pretend it's Friday. After all, Friday evening is much more exciting than Sunday evening - hello, weekend!! O:) To aid you in this endeavour, I shall send you all imagination cookies via carrier bat. Rah.
Anyway, in wading through my feedreader today, I came across this gem from Nathan Bransford:
Writing is an act of getting down on your hands and knees and pushing on the ground and hoping the world spins on a slightly different axis. It's the art of not taking life for granted and trying to make something, anything change.
Go read the post; it's well worth it :) Essentially, what Nathan posits is that writers are, by definition, strivers; if one were happy with the world, one wouldn't write a book, after all. The act of writing is the act of petitioning for change. Even the books that are written off as 'fluff' are all trying to elicit change, all acknowledging that there is something in the world that needs improving on, even if that's only that people are sad and need to be cheered up. Escapist fiction, by its very definition, posits that the world needs escaping from.
I've talked about striving before to say that sometimes, even when we don't hit our goals, it's the very act of striving that counts. I think writing is part of that 'sometimes'. It's all too easy to lose sight of why we write when faced with rules and guidelines and agents and publishers and thoughts about the 'end goal' of writing as publishing. But really, I'm not here, presenting myself to you as a writer, because I want to be published. Okay, sure, that's part of it, but publishing is not my end; it's a means to my end.
My end is change. I write because I'm a writer, and writers strive. They strive for change, and usually to improve the world in some way, if even only by highlighting the bad and providing no solution beyond 'humans must die'.
In the throes of my first ever total from-scratch rewrite, I'm really glad I stumbled on this piece of advice today. Because during the rewrite, it's so tempting to concentrate on the fact that I'm rewriting it to make it better for people to read - which is to say, publication, in whatever form. But really, that's not why I'm rewriting. I'm rewriting because the original story, while fun, and while it had its shining moments, was not the story I wanted to tell. It wasn't the change I wanted to address; it wasn't what I wanted to strive towards. And the words flow much more easily when I concentrate on the heart of my story.
I'm going to end this the same way Nathan Bransford did: with some words from the great F. Scott Fitzgerald, reminding us once more that it is the very act of striving that's important - not so much the thing one strives towards (although that has importance too, in determining our direction):
"that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
Anyway, in wading through my feedreader today, I came across this gem from Nathan Bransford:
Writing is an act of getting down on your hands and knees and pushing on the ground and hoping the world spins on a slightly different axis. It's the art of not taking life for granted and trying to make something, anything change.
Go read the post; it's well worth it :) Essentially, what Nathan posits is that writers are, by definition, strivers; if one were happy with the world, one wouldn't write a book, after all. The act of writing is the act of petitioning for change. Even the books that are written off as 'fluff' are all trying to elicit change, all acknowledging that there is something in the world that needs improving on, even if that's only that people are sad and need to be cheered up. Escapist fiction, by its very definition, posits that the world needs escaping from.
I've talked about striving before to say that sometimes, even when we don't hit our goals, it's the very act of striving that counts. I think writing is part of that 'sometimes'. It's all too easy to lose sight of why we write when faced with rules and guidelines and agents and publishers and thoughts about the 'end goal' of writing as publishing. But really, I'm not here, presenting myself to you as a writer, because I want to be published. Okay, sure, that's part of it, but publishing is not my end; it's a means to my end.
My end is change. I write because I'm a writer, and writers strive. They strive for change, and usually to improve the world in some way, if even only by highlighting the bad and providing no solution beyond 'humans must die'.
In the throes of my first ever total from-scratch rewrite, I'm really glad I stumbled on this piece of advice today. Because during the rewrite, it's so tempting to concentrate on the fact that I'm rewriting it to make it better for people to read - which is to say, publication, in whatever form. But really, that's not why I'm rewriting. I'm rewriting because the original story, while fun, and while it had its shining moments, was not the story I wanted to tell. It wasn't the change I wanted to address; it wasn't what I wanted to strive towards. And the words flow much more easily when I concentrate on the heart of my story.
I'm going to end this the same way Nathan Bransford did: with some words from the great F. Scott Fitzgerald, reminding us once more that it is the very act of striving that's important - not so much the thing one strives towards (although that has importance too, in determining our direction):
"that's no matter--tomorrow we will run faster, stretch out our arms farther... And one fine morning — So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past."
01 July 2010
Themes in Hunter Hunted
I’m finishing up lesson eight of Holly’s How To Revise Your Novel course today. It’s a fantastic lesson, pulling together everything that’s gone on in the lessons before to give you a clear picture of your story the way it is now, with its biggest strengths and weaknesses, and to give you a focus for the upcoming changes you’ll be making to the story.
At the moment, I’m working on theme. The basic premise of this story is that Avinash, a young tiger guard, breaks the clan’s most sacred law and eats a human, whom tigers are sworn to protect. This not only sparks a war between human and tiger, it also plunges him deep into depression, questioning his self worth and existence.
In the end, however, he finds redemption in the love of one particular human girl. That’s the reason I wanted to tell the story – for Avinash, to show him that he really was still loveable, and worthwhile. So naturally, I thought that was the theme: the no sin is truly unforgivable, that there is some good in everyone worth saving.
But thanks to this lesson, which requires me among other things to write a page about my theme, where I missed the mark in the story, and where I hit it, I’ve realised something very important. These are only subthemes.
My real theme, the theme that all my key characters play out, is this idea of love and self sacrifice. Avinash kills a human to satisfy his own needs; in the end, he sacrifices himself to save a human, putting their needs before his. Other characters in the story demonstrate this over and over – or blatantly refuse to accept the idea, depending on the character.
Avinash’s redemption is important, but the decision that leads him there is the one to put other’s needs before his own; to realise that self-sacrifice is the highest form of love.
Interesting how we can say something through a story that we never set out to intend. But really, that’s why we write; as the quote by somebody-famous-whose-name-I-forget goes, “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”
At the moment, I’m working on theme. The basic premise of this story is that Avinash, a young tiger guard, breaks the clan’s most sacred law and eats a human, whom tigers are sworn to protect. This not only sparks a war between human and tiger, it also plunges him deep into depression, questioning his self worth and existence.
In the end, however, he finds redemption in the love of one particular human girl. That’s the reason I wanted to tell the story – for Avinash, to show him that he really was still loveable, and worthwhile. So naturally, I thought that was the theme: the no sin is truly unforgivable, that there is some good in everyone worth saving.
But thanks to this lesson, which requires me among other things to write a page about my theme, where I missed the mark in the story, and where I hit it, I’ve realised something very important. These are only subthemes.
My real theme, the theme that all my key characters play out, is this idea of love and self sacrifice. Avinash kills a human to satisfy his own needs; in the end, he sacrifices himself to save a human, putting their needs before his. Other characters in the story demonstrate this over and over – or blatantly refuse to accept the idea, depending on the character.
Avinash’s redemption is important, but the decision that leads him there is the one to put other’s needs before his own; to realise that self-sacrifice is the highest form of love.
Interesting how we can say something through a story that we never set out to intend. But really, that’s why we write; as the quote by somebody-famous-whose-name-I-forget goes, “How do I know what I think until I see what I say?”
18 November 2009
Upping the Stakes
So, since I'm officially on holidays from uni now (and never have to go back! Did I mention that? Ha! No more uni! *bounce*), I'm taking the opportunity to catch up on my horrendously long To-Be-Read (TBR) pile. Sometime last year, Merc made a goal of reading 100 books in a year; I decided I couldn't do that many, and would just read all the books I owned but hadn't read.
Yeeeah. No.
Last count that was 200+ books. *blush*
ANYway. I'm reading. And recently, I read a really excellent fantasy trilogy - the Black Jewels tril by Anne Bishop (which, by the way, is definitely R 18+, and DO NOT READ if you're at all squeamish about sex/violence/abuse). These books are stunning, in every sense of the word, and they're one of a handful of series/books that will stick around in my memory for a Very Long Time, and shape not only how I write, but how I think.
Which brings me to today's topic: Upping the stakes.
I read book one of this trilogy, and it gripped me. Like, I spent all night dreaming about it, gripped me. And, being Curious Writer, of course, I wanted to know why. Sure, the plot was intense (esp book 1), the characters so real I wanted to murder some and adore forever others, and the worldbuilding so beautiful I want to steal it all right now and make it Mine.
But none of that is the reason; none of that explains why I balled my eyes out for the last two chapters of the first book, and the second last chapter of the last book, and why I dreamt about these books every night after I'd read them.
Why did these books have such an impact on me? Because everything mattered. Bishop created a character that is not only adored by nearly everyone she meets, but also by the reader. She's an amazing girl/woman, with a magnetic personality. And then Bishop slams her over the head with every kind of heartache and abuse possible.
And the other main characters have to save her.
It works because everything is at stake; the characters literally have everything to lose, everything to gain.
Now, I don't want to suggest that unless you go out and destroy all of your characters' lives and totally tread them into the ground, unless you plot involves the destruction of the entire known universe, then it's not going to be compelling.
That's not true. Books can be very compelling, even if all that will change at the end of the day is the main character's own life.
The point isn't the size of the change; it's the importance of the change. It's our job, as writers, to convince our readers that what we're writing about matters; that actions have consequences, that those consequences will suck for someone the reader cares about, and that they don't want that to happen.
I've been using this lately in my NaNo novel. The story started out a bit fluffy, really: girl graduates from Evil Overlord school, wants to take over her city of birth to get her parents' attention, ends up accidentally blowing things up which is both good and bad for lots of people. Sure, it's a lot of fun - but even fun isn't enough. It has to matter*.
* To the story, to the reader. Not necessarily in some big 'Oh my gosh this is life-changing!' way; more things matter to us than change our lives.
And so, I went on a little romp through my plot and looked for ways to up the stakes. Those of you following me on twitter might have heard some talk recently of the demons raining from the sky; that's just one way I've introduced a bigger threat for Mercury, my MC, to face, one more complication to her plans and motivation for her to act out the final climax of the book. Her actions now matter, because they affect more people than just herself and her small circle of acquaintances; her actions will impact lives, and she knows it.
I know this has been a somewhat rambly post, but the take home point is this: What you write about has to matter in order for it to resonate with readers. Big things matter - but so do little things. It's your job as a writer to convince your readers that what you're writing about is important, even if only for the context of the story.
If you're struggling, if it feels like your work is falling a little flat - try upping the stakes. Give your characters something to work for, and things that will not only get in their way but also shred them into little pieces (physically, emotionally, whatever - your choice :D) along the way.
Conflict. Conflict is the lifeblood of fiction. Conflict matters.
So, tell me: what's your favourite conflict you've ever inflicted on a character? Who's the character who has to fight for the highest stakes? And which character matters most to you? I'll answer in the comments after you do ;)
Yeeeah. No.
Last count that was 200+ books. *blush*
ANYway. I'm reading. And recently, I read a really excellent fantasy trilogy - the Black Jewels tril by Anne Bishop (which, by the way, is definitely R 18+, and DO NOT READ if you're at all squeamish about sex/violence/abuse). These books are stunning, in every sense of the word, and they're one of a handful of series/books that will stick around in my memory for a Very Long Time, and shape not only how I write, but how I think.
Which brings me to today's topic: Upping the stakes.
I read book one of this trilogy, and it gripped me. Like, I spent all night dreaming about it, gripped me. And, being Curious Writer, of course, I wanted to know why. Sure, the plot was intense (esp book 1), the characters so real I wanted to murder some and adore forever others, and the worldbuilding so beautiful I want to steal it all right now and make it Mine.
But none of that is the reason; none of that explains why I balled my eyes out for the last two chapters of the first book, and the second last chapter of the last book, and why I dreamt about these books every night after I'd read them.
Why did these books have such an impact on me? Because everything mattered. Bishop created a character that is not only adored by nearly everyone she meets, but also by the reader. She's an amazing girl/woman, with a magnetic personality. And then Bishop slams her over the head with every kind of heartache and abuse possible.
And the other main characters have to save her.
It works because everything is at stake; the characters literally have everything to lose, everything to gain.
Now, I don't want to suggest that unless you go out and destroy all of your characters' lives and totally tread them into the ground, unless you plot involves the destruction of the entire known universe, then it's not going to be compelling.
That's not true. Books can be very compelling, even if all that will change at the end of the day is the main character's own life.
The point isn't the size of the change; it's the importance of the change. It's our job, as writers, to convince our readers that what we're writing about matters; that actions have consequences, that those consequences will suck for someone the reader cares about, and that they don't want that to happen.
I've been using this lately in my NaNo novel. The story started out a bit fluffy, really: girl graduates from Evil Overlord school, wants to take over her city of birth to get her parents' attention, ends up accidentally blowing things up which is both good and bad for lots of people. Sure, it's a lot of fun - but even fun isn't enough. It has to matter*.
* To the story, to the reader. Not necessarily in some big 'Oh my gosh this is life-changing!' way; more things matter to us than change our lives.
And so, I went on a little romp through my plot and looked for ways to up the stakes. Those of you following me on twitter might have heard some talk recently of the demons raining from the sky; that's just one way I've introduced a bigger threat for Mercury, my MC, to face, one more complication to her plans and motivation for her to act out the final climax of the book. Her actions now matter, because they affect more people than just herself and her small circle of acquaintances; her actions will impact lives, and she knows it.
I know this has been a somewhat rambly post, but the take home point is this: What you write about has to matter in order for it to resonate with readers. Big things matter - but so do little things. It's your job as a writer to convince your readers that what you're writing about is important, even if only for the context of the story.
If you're struggling, if it feels like your work is falling a little flat - try upping the stakes. Give your characters something to work for, and things that will not only get in their way but also shred them into little pieces (physically, emotionally, whatever - your choice :D) along the way.
Conflict. Conflict is the lifeblood of fiction. Conflict matters.
So, tell me: what's your favourite conflict you've ever inflicted on a character? Who's the character who has to fight for the highest stakes? And which character matters most to you? I'll answer in the comments after you do ;)
09 April 2009
What Makes A Good Writer?
So, a conversation I had some time ago with a friend of mine went something like this:
Friend: she... she's a good writer, but she isn't ready to be a good writer, if that makes sense
Inky: she has no sense of self-worth - yes, that makes sense
Friend: no kidding
Inky: you need a bit of inner strength to be a truly good writer, I think
Which brings me to today's topic: What makes a good writer? What are the qualities that good writers possess?Friend: she... she's a good writer, but she isn't ready to be a good writer, if that makes sense
Inky: she has no sense of self-worth - yes, that makes sense
Friend: no kidding
Inky: you need a bit of inner strength to be a truly good writer, I think
Obviously, the thing at the head of our list will be 'can write well', followed closely by 'can edit well', followed again by 'writes regularly' (and I'm not talking regularly as in the way I horseride, which is extremely regularly, but not very frequently - once a year, to be precise :D).
But other than the ability to write, and to do it day after day, what does a writer need?
Persistence. Flexibility. The ability to adapt and change. (See here. There's also a nifty quiz you can take here). The ability to listen to the advice of others, and take constructive criticism.
All these are pretty logical, and are quite obvious when you think about it. Anyone who's been dabbling in the writing industry for any genuine length of time should be able to find a whole bunch of sources that agree with these qualities.
But.
But what? But a lot of people have these qualities, and it still never happens for them. A lot of people are good writers, midlist writers; but some people are great writers.
Sadly, I'm not (yet) one of those, so what I say here is pure speculation. One day I hope to hold empirical evidence in my hand as to the true of my suspicions, but for now, suspicions:
I think that to be a great writer, you need to know deep down that no matter what people say, you are still of worth, and what you say and think has value. You need to know you have a story to tell, and you need to be one hundred percent committed to getting it out there. You need to value it, and you need to value yourself.
And above that, because you value yourself, because you value your story, and because you're committed to making both the best you can be, you need to be able to dig deep within yourself and rip out your heart, and plaster it to the page. A bit dramatic, maybe, but it equates to this: You must be able to write honestly.
And that, I think, is the difference between books which are merely good, and those which have become classics (in whatever genre). The writers of the classics are honest; they're not fooling anyone, and least of all themselves. They respect themselves enough to dig deeply, past the pain, and find the truth - and it lights up their work and makes it shine throughout the centuries.
Of course, I could be wrong. This is just my random thought for the day. So tell me, what do you think??
04 February 2009
The Ultimate Freedom
A few weeks ago, Liana asked a question on her blog: Why do you write?
There were so many great answers to this question, and although I'd thought about this question before, the answers that people shared made me re-examine my own answer, and come up with something I'd always known, but never realised.
First, here are some of the other answers (used by permission):
"Because it makes me happy. Whether or not I get published. Ever. I will ALWAYS write." ~ Lady Glamis
"I like to entertain. Be it myself or the people who wish to read my stories, that's why ... Plus, I get to do whatever the heck I want! It's not like you can go about destroying solar systems on a daily basis in real life without a few people protesting. ;)
"Writing allows me to push personal boundaries and learn; it lets me vent frustration in safe ways (except maybe towards characters, who are never safe); it keeps me entertained and occupied and I enjoy it. There are slumps and periods of Isucktis, etc, and getting out of them is not always quick or easy, but in the end, I still enjoy what I do. I get very real satisfaction blowing things up--it's soothing. B-)
"As for publication, it may be a slim chance, but just think: there still IS a small percentage of people that get their books published. I see nothing wrong with aiming to be in that percentage. Even if I don't make it though, I will keep writing, keep trying. You lose every chance at your dream if you give up on it." ~ Merc
"Books have given me so much comfort in life, I want to at least try and give the same to others. Some of my wips, well I want to show that my religion isn't as bad as it can be made out to be. Sure, there are nutters, but which society doesn't have them? Merc made me realise something. Yes, we get to do a lot of things in writing we ordinarily can't do in RL. Those that know me, well they'll appreciate how much more I enjoy writing because creating my characters means at least part of me can be 'normal'. It's nice though, when RL comes with strings attached, to be free in wips." ~ Yunaleska
"Because it's an addictive escape. Have you noticed how many writers' families say that we are in our own world. Especially if we are writing and on CC at the same time. What the fire is burning down? Ah no it can't be, Abi just got on her horse, you'll have to reschedule, sorry." ~ Rie
See anything common in their responses? I think it's something common to my response, too: writing is freedom. In writing, we are free to explore ideas, concepts, situations that we might never encounter in real life. We are free to be whomever we want as we dip into the heads of all our characters, and we are free to recreate the world in our own image.
That's writing. But what about sharing what we write? If all we wanted was the freedom, we could write all day, quite content in the knowledge that no one will ever see what we have written. So why do some of us have this drive to show our work to others?
I think affirmation is part of it - we want to have someone else affirm that what we think, what we believe - what we have created - is worthwhile. But there's more to it than that. You know I go on about things like themes and meaning and legacies... And I know that's part of why I write.
But you know what? I'm not actually quite sure what part. I don't know what it is that I hope to gain by sharing my writing with people. I want to make them think, I know that - but why? Why is it so important to me that others think and reflect, and have cause to develop opinions and ideas of their own?
*grin* So I guess that's another part of why I write - to figure out why I write, and what it is that I want to say. There's a quote that my creative writing teacher in my undergrad degree used to spout at us all the time. I've forgotten who said it originally, but I love the sentiment:
How can I know what I think until I see what I say?
Yup. I can identify with that.
And that brings me to the final reason for the day: I write for me, too. I write because, to me, my stories mean something. In a weird, twisted kind of way, they expand my thinking, open my mind, and force me to challenge all my beliefs and perceptions. Writing isn't a comfortable task - at least, not if you do it well.
And you know what?
I think I like that.
28 November 2008
What It Means To Write
So. Meaning is something that, if you're a regular reader of this blog, you know I harp on about quite a bit. That's because - oddly enough - I think it's important. (To which my inner nine-year-old is laughing hysterically: meaning is important, ah ha ha!).
This is something that gets debated a lot, in one form or another, overtly and covertly, between any big enough group of writers: should writing mean something, or at least strive to mean something, or is it enough to merely entertain?
To which I say: there's entertaining, and there's entertaining.
A little while ago, maybe a month, I came to a conclusion: for me, what defines a book as 'fluff', and therefore ultimately no more than sheer entertainment, is lack of character development. Think it doesn't happen? No? Really? I have two words for you - no, make that three: Bond. James Bond.
*cracks up*
*regains straight face* Ahem.
Silly interludes aside, you get my point. There are stories where characters just don't grow, and for me personally, while they might be fun, I'm unlikely to list them as Books Which Changed My Life.
Some of you out there might be content to write Books That Don't; cool, fine, whatever.
I'm not.
I want to write books that Change Things: lives, sure, but even small things, like perceptions, attitudes, thoughts...
But here's a thought: All writing is meaningful.
Let me say that again: All writing is meaningul.
How? Why? Because all writing has something of the author in it, some facet of their personality, some trivial note about their life - and people are meaningful. Lives are meaningful. And when we write, in some small way, we are talking about our life.
Now, I don't want you to think I'm getting all autobiographical on you here, implying that in every book lurks the author's own life story; that's not what I mean at all. No. It's more subtle than mere events. It relates to something else I like to harp on about: themes.
Because, you see, your themes are nothing more and nothing less than what is important to you. And what's important to you is what makes it into your writing - or at least it should be. If you're not enjoying what you're writing, maybe this is why - you don't have enough of yourself in there, enough things that are important to you, that you can care about.
Therefore, it stands to reason that when you write - if you're really writing, and not merely doing exercises with a pen on a page - that you inject yourself, and by injecting yourself, meaning into your work.
Ergo all writing has meaning.
Even the stuff I disparage as 'fluff'.
What is my conclusion here? I'm not sure I have one. I do think it's important to strive, to want to make the world a better place with my writing... But I'm not you. And if you prefer to strive to entertain - well, perhaps in some situations escapism is a noble goal in and of itself.
I guess what I'm saying, if you really want to twist the meaning out of it (haha), is that I'll expand my horizons if you will. I'm willing to concede that all writing has meaning, even if it's meant only to entertain. But I'm emphasising a point I'm made before: you can't escape themes and meaning in your writing, simply because you want to entertain. We're writers; we speak. We speak because we have something to say. And that, my friend, is wotcha call meaning ;)
This is something that gets debated a lot, in one form or another, overtly and covertly, between any big enough group of writers: should writing mean something, or at least strive to mean something, or is it enough to merely entertain?
To which I say: there's entertaining, and there's entertaining.
A little while ago, maybe a month, I came to a conclusion: for me, what defines a book as 'fluff', and therefore ultimately no more than sheer entertainment, is lack of character development. Think it doesn't happen? No? Really? I have two words for you - no, make that three: Bond. James Bond.
*cracks up*
*regains straight face* Ahem.
Silly interludes aside, you get my point. There are stories where characters just don't grow, and for me personally, while they might be fun, I'm unlikely to list them as Books Which Changed My Life.
Some of you out there might be content to write Books That Don't; cool, fine, whatever.
I'm not.
I want to write books that Change Things: lives, sure, but even small things, like perceptions, attitudes, thoughts...
But here's a thought: All writing is meaningful.
Let me say that again: All writing is meaningul.
How? Why? Because all writing has something of the author in it, some facet of their personality, some trivial note about their life - and people are meaningful. Lives are meaningful. And when we write, in some small way, we are talking about our life.
Now, I don't want you to think I'm getting all autobiographical on you here, implying that in every book lurks the author's own life story; that's not what I mean at all. No. It's more subtle than mere events. It relates to something else I like to harp on about: themes.
Because, you see, your themes are nothing more and nothing less than what is important to you. And what's important to you is what makes it into your writing - or at least it should be. If you're not enjoying what you're writing, maybe this is why - you don't have enough of yourself in there, enough things that are important to you, that you can care about.
Therefore, it stands to reason that when you write - if you're really writing, and not merely doing exercises with a pen on a page - that you inject yourself, and by injecting yourself, meaning into your work.
Ergo all writing has meaning.
Even the stuff I disparage as 'fluff'.
What is my conclusion here? I'm not sure I have one. I do think it's important to strive, to want to make the world a better place with my writing... But I'm not you. And if you prefer to strive to entertain - well, perhaps in some situations escapism is a noble goal in and of itself.
I guess what I'm saying, if you really want to twist the meaning out of it (haha), is that I'll expand my horizons if you will. I'm willing to concede that all writing has meaning, even if it's meant only to entertain. But I'm emphasising a point I'm made before: you can't escape themes and meaning in your writing, simply because you want to entertain. We're writers; we speak. We speak because we have something to say. And that, my friend, is wotcha call meaning ;)
29 October 2008
That Which Matters
A couple of days ago Wulf published an awesome post called 'What The Hell Are You Writing?' Fluff, or something that will last? In the comments, Merc asked how it is that you do this, how you make your work mean something, and give it themes and depth weight. She noted that there seems to be this gulf, between what we want to do, and what we actually do... But that it nonetheless seems something worth striving towards.
This is my response.
What do you think? Do you write 'fluff'? Are you happy writing fluff? Or do you strive for something more out of your writing? Something that might just change lives and leave the world a better place?
This is my response.
And in the end, striving is what counts.
You do it, I think, in the end, by caring. You care what happens, you care about knowing… You dare to ask the questions you don’t know the answers to, to bare your soul, to inject something that means something to you into your work, even though people might hate it, and by extension you…
I think that this is one of those cases where wanting, trying - this is enough. There will always be a disconnect. You can never move yourself like others can move you, because you see the imperfections, you read behind the lines and find the blood and sweat and tears… But if you’re trying, genuinely trying… That, in the end, is what counts.
What do you think? Do you write 'fluff'? Are you happy writing fluff? Or do you strive for something more out of your writing? Something that might just change lives and leave the world a better place?
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