For most of my time as a writer, I was convinced I was writing for myself. I scribbled through journal entries, wrote blogs that reflected on my life, and even throughout my novels, I wrote what I knew to clear my head of the oddities that are my obsessions. Obviously everyone who creates wants the world to be proud of their works and admire them, but to me, it was the fact that it was yours that was what made it unique, what made you able to take pride in something you created. To me, it was all relative. If a twenty-something year old had written a picture book about two dogs named "Boofy" and "Dog" who went on crazy adventures, it wouldn't be entirely impressive. But my third grade self was mighty proud of this creation, because I had made a contribution to the literary world, no matter how minute.
Only now have I realized how solipsistic this assumption is. Sure, artists are reputed to live in their own little bubble, but what is art without an influence on others? Some writers may stick to plot lines that better reflect their own lives, but their main purpose is not to repeat what has happened to them: It is to tell a story, to exchange ideas. Perceiving and questioning ideas doesn't work if a writer just holes himself in a little box and only lets his eyes see his words. The act of writing is a private endeavor, but it loses its qualities as both vulnerable and powerful if there are no readers. As Jean-Paul Sartre reminds us, the reader is part of what makes writing. In the literary world, a reader is not a pair of cute heels or a shiny bracelet; it's your head, your head, or that one pair of sweats you can snuggle up in and feel all is right with the world.
I can see what it's easy to refute the importance of the reader: There is nothing more critical than an audience. When you present something you've grown attached to, a large audience isn't going to see your work in the exact same way you do. A sentence you thought magical and flowing may seem awkward to two-thirds of your readers. A character who reflects your growth as a person may seem flat and obnoxious to the rest of the world. Even in writing something as light and fun as a blog, I'm sure there are plenty of critics of the words I'm putting out for all the world (okay, a teeny tiny fraction of the world) to see. But even these critics are what make the "conversation" (remember that thing our eleventh grade teachers kept telling us to enter) so fun. To bounce ideas off one another. To remind others when something seems off and to give positive feedback when a writer really hits the spot.
It is important for a writer to review her own work, but you can't see your own words with the same objectivity that a reader can. A writer (ideally) puts her entire heart and soul into a piece that she's written. She can anticipate the end without making guesses, without really getting to know the characters or the style of the writing. It is the reader that turns a fun hobby into a truly analytical process, into a profession.
But like with everything else in the world, there's a fine line between respecting others' opinions and relying on them. Just as it isn't helpful to only write to appeal to your own wishes, it's essential to have some idea of the quality of your writing, how you want your own voice to sound. If you apply all the complains and advice the readers direct towards you, you start to lose the integrity of your creation. A writer's commentary that remains true to them can quickly spiral into a jumble of other people's opinions and views on the world. So how do you know when to stop listening to something that makes your writing concrete, makes it objective and real?
This is a question I have no answer to--fellow writers and thinkers, have you struggled with this question? What are your thoughts on the balance between writing for yourself and writing for others?
Have a happy Friday!
Namaste.
No comments:
Post a Comment