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Remembers of my Sad Prose
Reminders of My Sad Prose: Writing In a Time of Money
The craft of writing, over the course of history, has proved a veritable haven for people of passion. I, of course, am included in this tossed salad of metaphors and similes, alliteration and rhyme, and rhythm and flow. As far back as I remember, I've been that type of entity. In first grade, I wrote a book for my mom for mother's day. As a fifth grader, I wrote a song inspired by a book I read. My first novel was The Little Princess, a thick, old book I found once in our library. After that, I knew I longed to write. Poetry became an outlet for my emotions, good or bad, and soon after, my abilities became recognized by teachers and family members.
However, I remember going through phases as a writer. As a youngling, I wrote poetry with no rhythm, only rhymes, and my stories were very similar to books I read at the time. I suppose I tried to emulate the superiority of the novels I was introduced to. As I grew, perhaps in my middle school years, I began to mature a bit more as a writer. I began to get creative with the type of work I wrote, and it was then that I discovered the power of sinister writing. In high school, I began compiling a series of sinister short stories and poetry along with extremely happy poetry to publish a book. The title would have been "Spectrum," since there was a contrast of work. Unfortunately, I felt that I didn't have enough good pieces, and I've postponed the compiling of short stories, flash fiction, prose, and poetry.
However, this didn't stop me from sharing my work with other people. In fact, one of the best audiences I've written to is Congress. To make a long story short, I was angry about a presidential veto and decided to vent out through the form of letter. It was the best feeling in the world, although I'll never know whether they actually read my small note. Apart from my farfetched audience, however, I love sharing my work with other writers. I'm part of an online writing community in which, slowly but surely, I've begun to leave my mark among them. I suppose those are some of the toughest critics-the people who dedicate time to writing outside of that which is assigned, or anyone who cares enough for the art to spill emotion by its means. Family and friends are always great to start off, but it's the people who don't care about your feelings who can really tell you what's going on.
Apart from the passion, however, writers have the knowledge of just how hard it can be to write something. Countless barriers and obstacles could sway your writing abilities. Personally, I find myself having trouble writing during the day because it all seems too bright and happy for my mood. I don't necessarily enjoy having to write objectively and academically. I love free-writing on cloudy days because they reflect my inner being, the visionary, who in reality scribbles in my books and jabs at my keyboard.
I believe all writers have a separate entity that writes for them, and that entity is a reflection of their curiosities, thoughts, and dreams. The inspiration has to come from somewhere, perhaps novels, movies, stories, or experiences, but in the end it is that entity who shapes it all. I could have a desire to write something and as I sit at my desk contemplating how to start, for I believe that the first sentence is very important, I could begin writing something completely different. It's almost like I have no control. As for academic writing, I believe it contains a mixture of both entities, you and your writer, and for me as a whole, my writers have trouble concluding pieces, no matter which one it is.
So what are the implications of being a writer?
This is the question that plagues my mind continously. Is writing truly the right profession for, well, a writer? Is there honor in writing for money, or is the honor in writing for its own sake? Edgar Allan Poe is a classic example of a for-profit writer, yet he is one of the most eloquent, original writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading. On the other hand, there are many, many writers who have the talent and the passion, but not the money. So where does the glory truly lie?
Moreover, how does one make a career in a market where writing has become corporate without comprimising one's inherent worth and dignity?
And, lastly, is it worth compromising that dignity for a certain amount of cash? We live in a world where writers are beginning to short-sell themselves for the glory of publication. I remember not too long ago, a man was looking for someone to type edit 100 pages worth of work for $25. Not much later, the ad was answered. I was once hired for $8 an hour to blog, however, my duties also included handling a website, editing over 2000 photos on Photoshop, and pretty much anything my boss asked me to do. I lost sight of why I applied for the job in the first place, and 2 blogs later, I left.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is this: writing has become increasingly stained by greed and lack of insight. Whatever happened to the days where writing was truly noble? It seems we've been caught in the folds of the free market and its bourgeois nature. The writer's career has even come to a point where one may have to choose between a life without dignity or a life without comfort. Perhaps I'm wrong- I'm sure there is a percentage of writers who have both cake and ice cream, but I speak to the writer who submits what wants to be read, what wants to be published, and not what he or she intended. Or maybe I speak to the writers who will take no orders and consequently face the shame of rejection.
Writing has changed in countless ways since its period of true nobility, but however painful or uncomfortable, I must admit I continue to cling on to its long, rough talons, and I have no intention of letting go.
We define what writing is, not the other way around.
The craft of writing, over the course of history, has proved a veritable haven for people of passion. I, of course, am included in this tossed salad of metaphors and similes, alliteration and rhyme, and rhythm and flow. As far back as I remember, I've been that type of entity. In first grade, I wrote a book for my mom for mother's day. As a fifth grader, I wrote a song inspired by a book I read. My first novel was The Little Princess, a thick, old book I found once in our library. After that, I knew I longed to write. Poetry became an outlet for my emotions, good or bad, and soon after, my abilities became recognized by teachers and family members.
However, I remember going through phases as a writer. As a youngling, I wrote poetry with no rhythm, only rhymes, and my stories were very similar to books I read at the time. I suppose I tried to emulate the superiority of the novels I was introduced to. As I grew, perhaps in my middle school years, I began to mature a bit more as a writer. I began to get creative with the type of work I wrote, and it was then that I discovered the power of sinister writing. In high school, I began compiling a series of sinister short stories and poetry along with extremely happy poetry to publish a book. The title would have been "Spectrum," since there was a contrast of work. Unfortunately, I felt that I didn't have enough good pieces, and I've postponed the compiling of short stories, flash fiction, prose, and poetry.
However, this didn't stop me from sharing my work with other people. In fact, one of the best audiences I've written to is Congress. To make a long story short, I was angry about a presidential veto and decided to vent out through the form of letter. It was the best feeling in the world, although I'll never know whether they actually read my small note. Apart from my farfetched audience, however, I love sharing my work with other writers. I'm part of an online writing community in which, slowly but surely, I've begun to leave my mark among them. I suppose those are some of the toughest critics-the people who dedicate time to writing outside of that which is assigned, or anyone who cares enough for the art to spill emotion by its means. Family and friends are always great to start off, but it's the people who don't care about your feelings who can really tell you what's going on.
Apart from the passion, however, writers have the knowledge of just how hard it can be to write something. Countless barriers and obstacles could sway your writing abilities. Personally, I find myself having trouble writing during the day because it all seems too bright and happy for my mood. I don't necessarily enjoy having to write objectively and academically. I love free-writing on cloudy days because they reflect my inner being, the visionary, who in reality scribbles in my books and jabs at my keyboard.
I believe all writers have a separate entity that writes for them, and that entity is a reflection of their curiosities, thoughts, and dreams. The inspiration has to come from somewhere, perhaps novels, movies, stories, or experiences, but in the end it is that entity who shapes it all. I could have a desire to write something and as I sit at my desk contemplating how to start, for I believe that the first sentence is very important, I could begin writing something completely different. It's almost like I have no control. As for academic writing, I believe it contains a mixture of both entities, you and your writer, and for me as a whole, my writers have trouble concluding pieces, no matter which one it is.
So what are the implications of being a writer?
This is the question that plagues my mind continously. Is writing truly the right profession for, well, a writer? Is there honor in writing for money, or is the honor in writing for its own sake? Edgar Allan Poe is a classic example of a for-profit writer, yet he is one of the most eloquent, original writers I've ever had the pleasure of reading. On the other hand, there are many, many writers who have the talent and the passion, but not the money. So where does the glory truly lie?
Moreover, how does one make a career in a market where writing has become corporate without comprimising one's inherent worth and dignity?
And, lastly, is it worth compromising that dignity for a certain amount of cash? We live in a world where writers are beginning to short-sell themselves for the glory of publication. I remember not too long ago, a man was looking for someone to type edit 100 pages worth of work for $25. Not much later, the ad was answered. I was once hired for $8 an hour to blog, however, my duties also included handling a website, editing over 2000 photos on Photoshop, and pretty much anything my boss asked me to do. I lost sight of why I applied for the job in the first place, and 2 blogs later, I left.
I suppose what I'm trying to say is this: writing has become increasingly stained by greed and lack of insight. Whatever happened to the days where writing was truly noble? It seems we've been caught in the folds of the free market and its bourgeois nature. The writer's career has even come to a point where one may have to choose between a life without dignity or a life without comfort. Perhaps I'm wrong- I'm sure there is a percentage of writers who have both cake and ice cream, but I speak to the writer who submits what wants to be read, what wants to be published, and not what he or she intended. Or maybe I speak to the writers who will take no orders and consequently face the shame of rejection.
Writing has changed in countless ways since its period of true nobility, but however painful or uncomfortable, I must admit I continue to cling on to its long, rough talons, and I have no intention of letting go.
We define what writing is, not the other way around.
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1 Comment
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Comment by David Eide on October 19, 2008 at 7:52pm -
Well Melissa, this is a perennial question and one you have framed very well. I'm not sure if there is a real answer. I know every writer scopes out his or her society, if not world, when they are younger and makes some crucial decisions. If "noble" art is "public" that is one thing to check. That happened when the rich and powerful patronized art and when literary art was the dominant form of entertainment as when the novel was very popular. If "noble" art is a private art then you need to get make adjustments.
In my case I looked at the market and asked the question, "who is doing what I want to do? Who is going to teach me the art of writing, even the writing life?" I saw a few poets like Charles Olson and Robert Creely. My writing heroes had been D.H. Lawrence and James Joyce, among others. They lived not so nobly but produced excellent work, as did Hemingway who lived off women some of the time. A lot of writers I admired were teaching in universities. People used to tell me, "this is a market-driven democracy, the only patrons are colleges where you have to teach a few months during the year."
I think the choice is between a "writing life" where you write over time, produce something you are proud of or reflects your sense of truth and beauty or whatever criteria you may have without any guarantee. That is a kind of spiritual way and like a life of devotion means little to anyone else and has no guarantee that you'll benefit in the next life. Devotion. I think that is one path. The professional writing life is not less noble, not less challenging. But, rather than the writing being generated by a desire to "reveal" the writing is shaped by the market. And the market promotes weird, low, odd stuff, as well as good stuff.
Everyone is different. I truly admired WCWilliams who was a country doctor and believed writing was not a form of communication but a form of "revelation." But, then there was Henry James who wrote for that bourgeois public, ceaselessly, and made enough to survive and produced some decent novels.
I don't think there's any way a writer can figure that out until they start digging in the hard scrabble. The writer is tested at every step in a society like this that would rather read porn or celebrity nonsense than literary fiction, for instance. Writing in this culture is one tough nut. That sums it up.
In a market sense writers are up against it because there is far more supply than demand. The clever publishers understand this and buy the cheapest vendor available. Whatever path you take don't be passive to the marketplace because it will eat a writer alive. Have a plan. Have a strategic plan based on what your goals are. Study the market. Study how to reach the best markets.
If you are proud of the writing art and its thousands of years of traditions cultivate devotion and patience.
It's always an open-ended question and I hope others weigh-in.
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