Episode 118 'Why Writers Write'

It feels ironic to stare at a digital page and wonder what on earth to write, when the blog post title 'why writers write' may suggest that I know what I am doing. 

The truth is, I have no plan. No heroic analogy or intellectual reasoning. On the rare occasion that I may strike gold due to a misplaced anecdote or whimsical tale, the fact remains that there was never a structure to this in the first place. This also reflects my life; no plan, no structure. 

I write with emotion, not logic or guidelines. I bless my cotton socks that I was relatively auspicious in my English language and literature classes, upon the hundreds of books I must have read growing up. And so, the idea of writing my own book felt as natural as following the page with my finger. 

The logic comes from experience. I feel that, although I didn't study a degree in creative writing, my understanding of sentence and paragraph structure is pretty sound. I have almost certainly written some terrible things over the years; this blog would be the flagship of such examples. And because I have written with no official tutoring, the guidelines have changed somewhat. Could this be detrimental? Yes, probably. 

Admittedly, I would use a Thesaurus from time to time to inject a few extra syllables to a waning word, but essentially the writing is all of my doing. Using a Thesaurus is akin to investing in a better pair of running trainers, or adding a go faster stripe to your car: they are mere flourishes upon an already performing foundation. And they can look rather cool. 

 

I cannot stand bad grammar, or American spelling, so I feel safe in this area of writing. But regardless of these factors, to write is still an act of creating something from nothing and remains to be subjective. 

But the question stands; why do I write?  

The answer could be as simple or as convoluted as I'd care to digress. Ultimately, it comes down to my lack of communication with others when I was younger, and wanting desperately to be heard, to fit in. I have already touched upon this in a previous blog post (episode 114), concerning my school years, but we are constantly surrounded by soft reboots, so please indulge me.

Throughout most of my school years I was a quiet, well-behaved little boy with a handful of friends, happy to listen to the teacher and finish my homework on time. For some of the harder years I would eat lunch alone in the library, drawing comic strips and writing timelines to stories that would not quite come into fruition, let alone reach publication. I was twelve years old. 

    With all the teenage pressures of growing up (puberty, bullying, friendship groups and schoolwork) I was finding it impossible to enjoy anything. Writing and drawing became an escapism to channel these mixed emotions. I frequently placed myself as the protagonist in a narrative that favoured a hero that was weird and unpopular. It was the only thing that made sense to me. 

This would explain my tendency to write with my emotions at the forefront, because I know no other resolve. It has literally been the foundation of my artist's way. The hereditary issues that follow are therefore twofold; I can be very protective over my writing and also run the risk of becoming so narcissistic that it's off-putting to the reader. So a balance must be struck if I was ever going to take myself seriously as a writer. 

Currently I am reading The Artist´s Way by Julia Cameron, a book that depicts the creative journey as more of a divine and spiritual energy rather than an ego trip. I have been taking notes in order to exercise my mind differently, embracing this energy without feeling so contrived about my work. 

The basic principles are as followed (these are not my notes, but from the book itself):

1. Creativity is the natural order of life. Life is energy: pure creative energy.

2. There is an underlying, in-dwelling creative force infusing all of life - including ourselves.

3. When we open ourselves to our creativity, we open ourselves to the creator's creativity within us and our lives. 

4. We are, ourselves, creations. And we, in turn, are meant to continue creativity by being creative ourselves. 

5. Creativity is God's gift to us. Using our creativity is our gift back to God

6. The refusal to be creative is self-will and is counter to our true nature. 

7. When we open ourselves to exploring our creativity, we open ourselves to God: good orderly direction. 

8. As we open our creative channel to the creator, many gentle but powerful changes are to be expected. 

9. It is safe to open ourselves up to greater and greater creativity. 

10. Our creative dreams and yearnings come from a divine source. As we move toward our dreams, we move toward our divinity.

It's an impressive list of principles, almost abusing the word 'creativity' to a meaningless presence (or maybe I am just tired of typing it out). And even though I am not religious, or believe in God, I find myself appreciating all ten points with a willingness to adhere to them. I do believe in the Force, after all. 

These collective principles are called Spiritual Electricity. Two powerful words that also sound like a semi-successful synth band from the Eighties. The book is interesting, I must say, but these are ultimately principles that one person has created to inspire others (of which is evident). Thusly, is brings me back to the idea of subjectivity. Is it all one endless cycle? Creators creating other creators? 

I was reading another book, recently, that offered another opinion when it comes to writing (or creating in general). The difference is stark, yet reigns true I believe. The author, none other than George Orwell, published Why I write in 1946 and I found a copy in my brother's room. My brother has an inexhaustible collection of books; I am grossly jealous. 

    In this book by Orwell, I found a paragraph that hit me in a particular way. I guess one might refer to it as a truth bomb. 

'All writers are vain, selfish and lazy, and at the very bottom of their motives there lies a mystery. Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand. For all one knows that demon is simply the same instinct that makes a baby squall for attention. And yet it is also true that one can write nothing readable unless one constantly struggles to efface one’s own personality.'

Now, as spiritual as I am, or claim to be (I meditate and practice my breathing/yoga exercises. So, obviously, I am enlightened), this latter description of writers and their motives feels closer to the mark for me. Some of my best work comes from dark times of depression and self sabotage. I have said this many times before, but there is a reason why the term 'suffering artist' exists. If I wasn't suffering in some way, then I am not doing it right. 

Don't worry - this is a good thing! And part of this is due to acceptance (which I am not usually very good at) but also the fact that I am possibly self aware of this trait. I know that I am writing a novel where the protagonist is based on me. I know that I am pouring all of my problems onto this character, making him seem, at best, ambiguously redeemable. Maybe I am just writing simply to find the answer? And after the third sequel, you may find the protagonist finally at peace living in a comfortable little cottage, with a pet dog and growing tomatoes in his vegetable patch. But who would read that? 

Someone told me recently that self-awareness is everything. I believe this, but it also vexes me. If I am aware of certain traits or habits (as an artist or, indeed, as a human being) then why do I not change them? My friend (the aforementioned lovely someone) then pointed out that 'the whole point of human experience is to be faceted and interesting and layered. This sensitivity that comes with creativity is heavy to carry if it doesn't have a little temperance from a counter energy.' And so, like Frodo Baggins and the ring of power, the weight must be carried until the end of all things. 

But how does all of the above affect the story that I am writing? The narrative, character arcs, chapter structure, morals and messages that I am hoping to convey? Am I letting my emotions hold too much influence over the creative input? Or is that precisely the artistic stamp that I should lean into?

    Clearly I am asking too many questions and should just finish the bloody book. The first draft is very close to being finished. There was a three month hiatus from October to December last year, due to three stop motion projects I worked on in Birmingham (more on those in the next post), and I stopped writing completely. I didn't particularly plan for this, as my projection was to finish the first draft by the end of 2025. But, alas, the animated commercials that I worked on were stressful at times, with long hours, and zapped me of any creative energy I may have had at the end of the day. 

I had always planned to write something every day, no matter how much or how poor it was. Unfortunately, this was not met and the deadline flew past me with various unfinished chapters and incoherent plot points that still need amendment. However, this is why we have a first draft; a second, third, or heck, even a tenth draft!  

I want to revert back to the emotional influence for a moment, if you bear with me, because I don't think that this is necessarily a bad way to write. Artists always create from the heart; it's kind of our thing. And if that heart is full of love or anger, broken or taped back together for another hopeful bout of romance, the artist shall always use this energy, this force, to channel themselves into the piece that they are creating. Otherwise, what on earth are we even doing here?

If I only made one person smile from experiencing my art or my writing, then I deem my life and purpose a worthy existence. 

And so I continue with my artistic quest. Life is one big investigation, after all. If I stopped asking questions or healed all of my flaws and faults, then what can I offer? Maybe I need to learn to embrace the darkness a little more and not be so hasty in neglecting this super power. 

For every hero experiences both the light and the dark.