You Mean Like The Back Of A Volkswagon?

April 27, 2006 at 10:21 AM | Posted in Personal | 4 Comments
  Each new day is a startling revelation for me.  Usually, that startling revelation is along the lines of "What day is this?  Is this a weekday?  Shit, I have to pee really bad!"  These revelations and their consequences are what get me out of bed each day. 
  As I evolve as a writer (Wow.  Try to say that without sounding egotistical)–I go back and forth between these two things:  am I writing for myself, or for the reader?  From what I have read about writing, these are the two schools of thought.
  If I am writing for myself, I have no basis, no frame of reference, to determine if what I am writing is any good.  There I am, writing, keeping it all to myself, surrounding myself with my own creative work, not caring what others think–It is allegorically related to masturbation in that sense, and it makes me uncomfortable.
  If I share it with everyone, I open myself up to a lot of things.  Criticism, for one.  And the ever-changing dynamic that is listening to the feedback from critics and changing my writing style.  Where is the defined line between what I want to create, and what I have to do to appease the reader?  Is it growth and compromise, or is it caving?  This, too, makes me uncomfortable.
  I have often said that government funding for the arts is a way to make whores.  If what you create cannot be sold because it cannot be understood by the common man (i.e., the buyer), then maybe you no fucking good.  Misunderstood in your time?  How about stupid?  Perhaps these are broad generalizations, and I hope they don’t make anyone. . . uncomfortable.
  But I have accepted the fact, for the time being, anyway, that what I have created is not salable, at least not currently, or in it’s current form.  This is my lament, my cross to bear, but also my carrot.  Something to work towards, something to strive for.
  I have so much in me–some might say bullshit–that I freely pour out what I have here, in my private journal, for all to read.  These essays, these stories in my life, I try to make them creative and entertaining, but they are also practice for me, for writing.  The actual creative writing that I do, the fiction, I don’t put up on here, because I expect, or at least hope, to try to sell it.
  And when you write to sell, you write, and rewrite, and edit, and get outside opinion and input.  You try to streamline it, perfect it, go over it and over it, making it good.  And also checking the spelling.  All of that work sounds like it would make me tired, or at least very uncomfortable.
  Meanwhile, these essays here, they are stream of consciousness first drafts, with little or no correction.  So when I write about my colonoscopy, and try to use the most delicate phrasing possible, and concentrate more on my emotions than the actual act, I thought people would be more comfortable with that, and yet–
  Not much commenting going on. 
  What I thought would set people off everyone thought was hilarious.  Then I write a seemingly innocent piece, and and get nary a bite in reaction.  But I feel that, personally, my perspective has shifted from where it was originally.  I was concentrating on the "me" in my writing, and now I care more about the reader.
  I don’t know if that is good or bad.  But it is different.  My fiction should be more reader oriented, because they will pay for it, if I’m lucky.  The journal should be more me oriented, because it is about me. 
  So hopefully you will notice a change in my writing, back to my early days, when my art was pure and untainted.  Innocent.  And if you don’t like it, I will fuck you in a very uncomfortable place.  If you know what I mean.
   
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4 Comments »

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  1. lol wayyy random but hilarious. You craked me up . Thanx!! : )

  2. In my humble opinion: popularity does not equal talent (this from someone who was once called a "pop queen of spaces" – wildly offensive and unflattering, in my mind.  Apparently, this makes me the equivalent of Hansen or Britney Spears. Yay).
     
    The problem with this forum: you can be the greatest writer in the world, but if people don\’t know about you, they won\’t be hanging upon your every word or worshiping you from afar. It seems like the best way to get exposure is to have MSN pick you as best of MSN spaces (though those spaces tend to be a bit on the safe/dull side).
     
    I used to worry about comments, links, never ending love and devotion, but now I\’m just a poor schmuck keeping a journal to remember this time in  my life.  You\’ll find a balance, and I\’ll read what you write regardless of which direction you take (oh, right, \’cause you were worried?!)
     

  3. If you write it, I will read it. If you sell it, I will buy it. But I better get a personally signed copy delivered by the author into my awaiting hands!
     
    Please don\’t fuck me in a very uncomfortable place. I\’m too old for the backseat of a tiny sportscar. Especially one named Nigel.  I promise I will like what you write!!!
     
    LOL…  *wink*
     
    hugs and kisses

  4. HAve you ever read "Letters to a Young Poet" by Rainer Marie Rilke – the Norton edition is the only translation worth reading – it hits this very topic from the start as it is letters from Rilke to a young student who was acquanted with his marverlous poetry and wanted an opinion. Rilke taught me much about life as well as art in many forms by his words to the young poet seeking his advice. "It is in your heart, and if in the morning you MUST write, than that is what you are meant to do"…the book is marvelous, please get it. I think you would like it as a writer and as a person. – best, patti


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