Writing doesn’t bring me a lot of joy these days. There is no joy in me when I write about pain, suffering, and cruelty. I don’t get any joy from writing things that are painful and true.
So why do I write like this?
Because I have to is the first thought that comes to my mind. Because for me, not writing about what’s eating at me and occupying so much of my mental and emotional energy is like leaving an open wound to fester and grow infected. I used to try and bury stuff like this but I can’t do that anymore.
When I first started writing back in the era of MTV and leg-warmers, I did feel joy at putting words onto the page. I loved the feeling of those words pouring out of me, of being able to escape into my imaginary worlds. But as the MTV-and-leg-warmers era began to wane into Total Request Live and boy-bands, I wanted to do more with my writing. And that dear readers, is when writing started to get hard, and a lot of joy got lost that still hasn’t been found.
It was okay for me to piddle about writing fiction but wanting to write about political and social issues, or just any type of non-fiction writing… well I’d been told I couldn’t talk about politics and issues at all because I was an idiot, and that I was only good enough to write non-fiction that was sweet a bit clever. I have since come tor realize all this negative talk was total fucking bullshit. It was just people being loud-mouthed assholes because they knew what I wrote might be different from what they thought and felt and that was a bad thing.
I have never, ever wrote with the intent of using my writing as an axe to grind, win arguments, or prove a point. That’s never been my intent and it never will be. I write to express my thoughts and feelings, to share my observations of the world, and to tell stories both true and not-so-true (fiction). If anyone thinks otherwise, keep reading.
That loss of joy is not a bad thing. What I get in return is a feeling of accomplishment, of knowing I did the work myself and will continue to do so. Now I know with some people in this world who can’t see past the end of their own noses this is not a popular or acceptable feeling. To some people, this is a hard smack of selfishness and ego. It’s selfishness and ego if that’s the intent behind it, meaning writing is done just to deliberately inflict pain onto someone or the world in general. Hate speech and spin-bullshit-lying of right-wing disinformation campaigns is a shitty example of the ego and selfishness of its’ creators. But if that’s not your intent, and it’s sure as hell not my intent, then I reject that accusation of my writing as just an expression of selfish ego.
Did I know my writing life would come to this all those years ago? No. I knew it would be a lot of hard work to learn my craft as I’d been told from day one. What I didn’t know then, and what can only be learned with time and living, is how I could use writing to work through my own emotions, my own experiences, and yes, my pain. I’m not the first writer ever to use writing to sort out my own emotional and mental stuff. But I sure as hell won’t be the last.
This is why I don’t take it very well at all when someone says writing is easy, or worse, that’s it nothing but a public ego-stroke. If you think all these words came out perfectly as I typed them with no need for correction or revision, or that I didn’t think about them all… then you’re wrong because of what I’ve told you about the process here. To readers who make demands on writers to be a certain way or write in just a certain way… well I think Nora Roberts gave the best response to that: “Bite me.”
Now I’m sure someone might ask me, what gives me the right to make demands of my readers to examine their conscience, their thoughts and beliefs? No right, really. But I’m not asking anyone to conform to a certain way of thinking. I’m asking people to think of their own responses to my work as I have thought about mine and put them out there in my writing. It’s been demanded of me as a reader, and as a person and I have examined my conscience, and my thoughts and beliefs and come out a better person from what I’ve learned. I think the only real thing we can do is accept our differences without forcing someone to conform, or trying to diminish them as a person for being different to begin with.
Whenever someone decides to pursue something with all of their energy, whether it be writing, music, auto racing, or any activity really, they will be seen as different by some people. And sadly, some of those people will be complete and total fucking assholes. But as my later father was fond of saying, don’t the let the few assholes in this world ruin things for you. I’ve spent too much time and energy worrying about what some lame-brained ego-centric idiot might think instead of just doing something.