LET'S TALK, YOU and I. Let's talk about the Writer, and the writing life.
I am a Writer. I write.
This is who I am. This is what I do.
I have been involved in writing as a Writer for more years than I care to admit to (Vanity is to blame).
I became involved in writing at a young age.
I suppose a reason I become involved in writing was because I was led to believe writing was not for me. Better I pursue a noble and worthy concern - rocket science, medicine, or even teaching - because I had a demonstrated aptitude for such things. (Although I would argue against such learned opinion, pointing to the ruined vacuum cleaner I dismantled one rainy Sunday morning, that I failed to reassemble successfully as evidence of my position.)
Of course, as you can see, I did not heed this advice. Mostly because at that time in my life I was given to doing things I was told not to do.
Once I started writing I did it not to rebel but because I wanted to write. Because I enjoyed the process. Because I was good at it.
A memory, if you will allow: When I qualified my intention in this matter it was rebuked immediately by the aforementioned learned types, and I was admonished for such foolish notions: Life, I was told, is not about doing what you want to do. It is not about realizing pleasure. It is most certainly NOT about doing what you are good at doing. It is about work. Hard work. Unpleasant work. Work without end or satisfaction.
Yes, well. . .
Despite this seemingly determined pronouncement and the assurance I would not succeed as a Writer, I did.
I am a Writer. I write.
This is who I am. This is what I do.
I make a comfortable living as a Writer, from writing. I have a good life. I am blessed with supportive friends and family.
But it isn't enough.
It isn't enough because writing is not only a craft, but an Art. And Art, as many would agree, is not a definitive thing. You can't create a work of Art and declare it done. A work of Art is never done, never complete because the moment you even think it is you look at it, and realize this needs changing, that needs a slight alteration. This needs a gentle tweak, that requires a discrete nudge. And while you are making these adjustments to the work of Art in question you realize that you are using up precious time and energy that should otherwise be committed to other works of Art.
And then there is the matter of success: When it comes to Art, how do you know if it is a success? Or if it is successful enough? A work of Art cannot be measured readily. The number of awards it receives does not necessarily proclaim it a success. The financial return you realize from it is no better as a measurement.
I am a Writer. I write.
Since I first started my pursuit of this particular journey in Life I have struggled with these concerns and questions. Years on I have yet to come to an answer as response that satisfies me, and although I refuse to accept my present position on such matters as a form of defeat, I find acceptance in this position all the same:
Writing is a craft: Your first effort garnered you a dollar. Your tenth effort earned you one hundred dollars. Therefore, you are a success.
Yes, well. . .
Writing is an Art. As a craft writing can be measured with such metrics as financial compensation. As an Art writing can be measured with such metrics as accolades and awards. Therefore, the more accolades and awards you accumulate the more of a success you are.
Yes, but. . .
But what do these things say about success realized from Writing as a craft and an Art?
Nothing.
Therefore, for me, success is not and cannot be measured by such things. Success for me is measured by the reaction - emotional or otherwise - the writing evokes and provokes and the longevity it realizes.
I mention all of this because it goes to a writing project I am presently involved with. According to the experts the pursuit of this particular effort is a foolhardy one because it is a waste of time and is unlikely to make money once produced.
I don't argue such things because part of me believes them to be true.
At the same time, well, I silently dismiss them and continue doggedly in my pursuit.
All for a simple reason: This is what writing is really all about.
Writing is about - as some say - following your bliss. Instinctively making your way through life, in pursuit of a specific destination, even though you don't know what that destination is.
Writing is about exploring your weaknesses and your strengths, and embracing them. Writing is about knowing and confronting and facing down your fears while at the same time celebrating your courage. Writing, simply, is about Life.
I am a Writer. I write.
This is who I am. This is what I do.
And you?