The Musings Of A Hedonistic Scribbler
Summary: Short essay on why we write.
Word count: 1,240
I have often joked with my friends (both the physical ones and the ones who exist purely in graphite scribbles in battered old notebooks), that I should marry my keyboard, as we make such beautiful children together. This is, as you can imagine, more often than not met with awkward silences, where I am regarded with looks of utter confusion and, occasionally, fear.
I have gathered, from these reactions, that many people do not realise their own obsessions. For me, it is writing, for others, it might be sport, music, art, or any other thing that they may have an interest in. Everyone has one thing that grasps their attention so completely time may have no meaning. I have a friend who writes poetry. I have another friend who creates AMVs. My mother embroiders, while for my father, music lifts him so out of the world I often have to resort to physical violence to get him to pay heed to me.
As I've said, for me, the obsession is writing. Prose, mostly, fanfiction most definitely. I devoured books when I was younger, and it's stuck with me. I write poetry as well, though not as much or as frequently. Prose is my thing. I write wherever I can. I cannot leave the house without a notebook and pen on me, just in case something comes to me while I'm out, and I have to write it down. I often gain strange looks in the street, strolling down and scribbling away, weaving in and out of crowds on autopilot, while my mind is elsewhere, caught up in a whirlwind of my imagination.
And often, my better prose seems to have a common, but completely unintentional, theme. On Fictionpress, for example, it was pointed out to me that most of my work has to do with suffering - Aslyum, for example (and I apologise for the shameless self-advertising), as the name suggests, deals with different inmates in a secure hospital, whereas Pills is based on becoming addicted to your medication, and on my own experiences with depression.
Speaking of which, I have often heard people say that as a writer you should not write about something you haven't experienced. While I can see where this advice comes from, I also disagree whole-heartedly. To be a good writer, you need a good imagination, and it is my belief that if you have a good enough imagination, you can experience anything, if only inside your mind. Besides which, if writers only ever wrote about what they had experienced themselves, the world of literature would be an extremely dull place. There would be no fantasy, no science fiction, in fact, there would be nothing but endless, embellished biographies. I've written about a girl who was tortured and raped for four years, I've written about a child prophesised to have psychic powers so great, he was killed in the womb. I've never experienced anything close to this, but that didn't stop me writing about it. I'm a writer. It's what I do.
As mentioned previously, when I am not in the vicinity of my computer, I find it essential to have pen and paper on my person at all times, much like an asthma suffering needs an inhaler. It has become a life support machine for me, and oft-times, I find it easier to communicate through writing than talking. This has been recently proven by the fact that I am now receiving councelling by email, instead of talking, something which I think might be a lot easier to cope with. After all, you can stop when you're writing - and if you're writing, it doesn't have to be about you. It's just a story, and it's easier to talk about other people than yourself. I can go into long descriptions of the intricate workings of the characters of Asylum, but find my usually articulate and eloquent brain come up blank when asked to explain myself.
In April 2006, when I first started typing more instead of scribbling frantically on scraps of paper, I decided it would be easier to keep all my writing in one Word document - it would be easier to find what I was looking for, and as my father was dropping hints about getting a new computer and replacing mine with his old one, easier to transfer. This was a sound proposition in theory. However, when I was writing on paper, I didn't get nearly as much done, as my writing is tiny, and my hand cramped quickly, whereas once I started typing, I was able to churn out twice as much. This was proved by the fact that now (May 2008) I have recently passed the 7100 page milestone, an achievement I am rather pleased with, if I do say so myself. Now that I am able to get a lot more written down, I feel a lot less stressed - there is less running round my brain, and I no longer feel the need to remember it all, as I can get it written down quicker.
It is my firm belief that, while I may claim to write as an outlet, a lot of the time it is merely for the hell of it. I do find writing to be very soothing, but it is also somewhat of an obsession - if I do not write, my fingers start to itch, my breathing quickens, and I feel like I imagine a person with claustrophobia would feel if locked in a cupboard. Indeed, writing is my key - I turn it, and it allows me out of my cupboard of lethargy and monotony. Writing allows me to feel - I suffer from anxiety, and a lot of times, during these attacks, I find it hard to get enthuasiasm for anything; not school, not my future, nothing. Writing, however, not only allows me to feel, it forces me to. You simply cannot write anything halfway decent if you're not feeling anything.
The most important reason I believe people write, especially fiction, is that in the fictional world things have to make sense. They must do - if the story is not explained, no one will want to read it. Not even you, which is most particularly important, if, like most people, you are writing purely for the hedonistic pleasure of it. And let's face it, all writers are. Writers are selfish - they care about nothing but themselves and the worlds they have created when they put pen to paper, (or fingers to keyboard) even if they try to justify it later by dedicating work to other people. And in these worlds they have created, it must makes sense. They need to make sense. It is imperative, vital it makes sense, even if it only makes sense in their minds. I have often written short scenes of only a page or so where it would make no sense to anyone but me - only I have created the back story, only I know what is happening, and what has happened. The point is, it does make sense to someone, whereas reality often makes no sense to anyone.
To achieve satisfaction is the most deeply rooted reason I write. To feel that rush when I create new people, new worlds, new dimensions of exisestence. It gives me control. In a world of war, death, school, depression and confusion, it is good to be able to create something that is small and beautiful.
Word count: 1,240
I have often joked with my friends (both the physical ones and the ones who exist purely in graphite scribbles in battered old notebooks), that I should marry my keyboard, as we make such beautiful children together. This is, as you can imagine, more often than not met with awkward silences, where I am regarded with looks of utter confusion and, occasionally, fear.
I have gathered, from these reactions, that many people do not realise their own obsessions. For me, it is writing, for others, it might be sport, music, art, or any other thing that they may have an interest in. Everyone has one thing that grasps their attention so completely time may have no meaning. I have a friend who writes poetry. I have another friend who creates AMVs. My mother embroiders, while for my father, music lifts him so out of the world I often have to resort to physical violence to get him to pay heed to me.
As I've said, for me, the obsession is writing. Prose, mostly, fanfiction most definitely. I devoured books when I was younger, and it's stuck with me. I write poetry as well, though not as much or as frequently. Prose is my thing. I write wherever I can. I cannot leave the house without a notebook and pen on me, just in case something comes to me while I'm out, and I have to write it down. I often gain strange looks in the street, strolling down and scribbling away, weaving in and out of crowds on autopilot, while my mind is elsewhere, caught up in a whirlwind of my imagination.
And often, my better prose seems to have a common, but completely unintentional, theme. On Fictionpress, for example, it was pointed out to me that most of my work has to do with suffering - Aslyum, for example (and I apologise for the shameless self-advertising), as the name suggests, deals with different inmates in a secure hospital, whereas Pills is based on becoming addicted to your medication, and on my own experiences with depression.
Speaking of which, I have often heard people say that as a writer you should not write about something you haven't experienced. While I can see where this advice comes from, I also disagree whole-heartedly. To be a good writer, you need a good imagination, and it is my belief that if you have a good enough imagination, you can experience anything, if only inside your mind. Besides which, if writers only ever wrote about what they had experienced themselves, the world of literature would be an extremely dull place. There would be no fantasy, no science fiction, in fact, there would be nothing but endless, embellished biographies. I've written about a girl who was tortured and raped for four years, I've written about a child prophesised to have psychic powers so great, he was killed in the womb. I've never experienced anything close to this, but that didn't stop me writing about it. I'm a writer. It's what I do.
As mentioned previously, when I am not in the vicinity of my computer, I find it essential to have pen and paper on my person at all times, much like an asthma suffering needs an inhaler. It has become a life support machine for me, and oft-times, I find it easier to communicate through writing than talking. This has been recently proven by the fact that I am now receiving councelling by email, instead of talking, something which I think might be a lot easier to cope with. After all, you can stop when you're writing - and if you're writing, it doesn't have to be about you. It's just a story, and it's easier to talk about other people than yourself. I can go into long descriptions of the intricate workings of the characters of Asylum, but find my usually articulate and eloquent brain come up blank when asked to explain myself.
In April 2006, when I first started typing more instead of scribbling frantically on scraps of paper, I decided it would be easier to keep all my writing in one Word document - it would be easier to find what I was looking for, and as my father was dropping hints about getting a new computer and replacing mine with his old one, easier to transfer. This was a sound proposition in theory. However, when I was writing on paper, I didn't get nearly as much done, as my writing is tiny, and my hand cramped quickly, whereas once I started typing, I was able to churn out twice as much. This was proved by the fact that now (May 2008) I have recently passed the 7100 page milestone, an achievement I am rather pleased with, if I do say so myself. Now that I am able to get a lot more written down, I feel a lot less stressed - there is less running round my brain, and I no longer feel the need to remember it all, as I can get it written down quicker.
It is my firm belief that, while I may claim to write as an outlet, a lot of the time it is merely for the hell of it. I do find writing to be very soothing, but it is also somewhat of an obsession - if I do not write, my fingers start to itch, my breathing quickens, and I feel like I imagine a person with claustrophobia would feel if locked in a cupboard. Indeed, writing is my key - I turn it, and it allows me out of my cupboard of lethargy and monotony. Writing allows me to feel - I suffer from anxiety, and a lot of times, during these attacks, I find it hard to get enthuasiasm for anything; not school, not my future, nothing. Writing, however, not only allows me to feel, it forces me to. You simply cannot write anything halfway decent if you're not feeling anything.
The most important reason I believe people write, especially fiction, is that in the fictional world things have to make sense. They must do - if the story is not explained, no one will want to read it. Not even you, which is most particularly important, if, like most people, you are writing purely for the hedonistic pleasure of it. And let's face it, all writers are. Writers are selfish - they care about nothing but themselves and the worlds they have created when they put pen to paper, (or fingers to keyboard) even if they try to justify it later by dedicating work to other people. And in these worlds they have created, it must makes sense. They need to make sense. It is imperative, vital it makes sense, even if it only makes sense in their minds. I have often written short scenes of only a page or so where it would make no sense to anyone but me - only I have created the back story, only I know what is happening, and what has happened. The point is, it does make sense to someone, whereas reality often makes no sense to anyone.
To achieve satisfaction is the most deeply rooted reason I write. To feel that rush when I create new people, new worlds, new dimensions of exisestence. It gives me control. In a world of war, death, school, depression and confusion, it is good to be able to create something that is small and beautiful.