when i was a very very young writer - 16 years old - so maybe i just fancied myself to be a writer, i had a teacher who said to us "if you really mean it, you'll end up writing things that will hurt your family. you'll end up writing something out in to the world that will anger them. the things they wish would've stayed silent, kept hidden". something along those lines. i'm saying it worse, 13 years between then and now. and still the same fear that this statement is true... because it is true.
sometimes i think my words are greedy, only here to assuage me, my heart, my needs. i learned early that personal needs are selfish and bad. only now do i see that that lesson was bad and wrong, not me. not me.
writers- how do you handle this? do you think of it? do you fear it? how do you use it? how does one become fearless? is there such a thing as 'the sacred'? subjects you never touch? or do you parlay it in to a fiction? do you hide the work under the bed? do you lock it away? how do you let the rottweiler of the leash?
4 comments:
I struggle with these issues too, Angela. At school the nuns taught us never to use the word I. It is selfish and self seeking. For years they encouraged us to use the passive voice, to disown our own opinions and views as if the idea of one's opinion was also selfish.
The literary theorist, Paul John Eakin writes that 'autobiographers lead perilous lives'. I quote him often. It's true not just of autobiographers but of everyone who writes, fiction and non fiction alike.
I met a writer recently who told me how unfair it is. Writers spend years trying to produce words for others, as a gift, as an act of aggression , as that which they cannot help but do, and once their writing gets out into the public domain, they are then open to all manner of attacks, some quite gratuitous.
It is so easy to criticize another's best efforts when it comes to writing, because at a level many people can write.
It's like singing. We can all do it. There may well be a touch of envy in the attacks that come our way but there are also differences in perspective. Some people prefer that things remain hidden, underground, others most often the writers (and artists of all persuasions) want to drag it out and shine it under the light of day.
We can only respect each others' differences. For myself I continue to write and try hard to still the monkey on my back, primarily my first audience, my parents, authority figures of all types who tell me to be silent. I refuse to be silent.
As someone wrote recently in a comment on my blog - there are so many wonderful comments that float through the democracy of the blogosphere - you can only write your own truth, your own experience.
That emotional truth is unique to you and it is its very uniqueness that makes others want to read it, though at the same time there are others who will not tolerate that position because it differs from their own.
So to write is to struggle, but it's a struggle we must continue every day. Writers write from an ethical position that is personal but no less thought through and important. And only the writer can decide for herself/himself the boundaries.
For instance I avoid writing in any depth about my immediate family,at least for publication. It is too much in the present, but I do not hesitate to write about the past of my childhood because to me it is now that 'foreign country' of my imagination and memory.
Sorry to have gone on so long, but your blog is evocative. We all struggle with these issue and it helps to know that others share the same dilemmas.
i love long comments! i love the fact a person feels comfortable enough to do so! it is a blessing!
yes... to struggle. and there is no right answer. maybe the same things goes for fearlessness that goes for writing: one learns to write by writing... one learns to be fearless by being fearless. :)
"And only the writer can decide for herself/himself the boundaries."
i guess i'm still neck deep in the process of discovering these boundaries. it is an iffy thing. i think i might always be neck deep in this thing. it's what makes me want to write, to write with all i've got, and to read and search and expose myself to the writings of others. to see how you do it. and you and you and you.
i'm trying to learn how to love this thing. really love it. life long.
Wow. As a writer who is very much "in the closet" I guess I'd have to say I keep it there. So much of what I am and what I truely have to say would be hurtful to close friends and family (I don't have many of either) I grapple often with my rights as a human being where this is concerned. Do I have the right to hurt people with my truth? Is my truth ultimate? Certainly I claim no monopoly on reality, being of an overly sensitive and somewhat delusional nature. I can't help but feel my insights are interesting at the very least, but is that enough? I'm the only child of only children with no living grandparents, no cousins, no aunts, no uncles. My time will come, God willing, when anyone who would be hurt by my words will be gone. Who knows how I'll feel then, but suffice it to say, they're gettin' off easy. Ha!
heather- this is exactly it.
i've decided to go about it gingerly for now... warm up to the real thing slowly. maybe one day i'll be a good enough writer to handle the hard subjects effectively, compassionately, poignantly. until then..."they're gettin' off easy" . hahaha!
i do think that being the only child of only children is fascinating! i can only imagine!!! let me know when your time comes because i'll be all ears.
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