What makes one piece of writing popular and another one forgettable? There are all kinds of answers. But the one that seems to this writer to apply most often: conscience.
When writers dig inside themselves, down deep into the issues that they truly care about, into the beautiful and harsh life experiences that shaped them-- when they do this and then have the courage to expose these feelings and experiences to others... that makes for powerful writing. Writing that comes from the conscience-- this is something that other consciencs can learn from. It doesn't necessarily have to be positive and it doesn't necessarily have to take a moral stance and it doen't necessarily have to give advice (though none of these things is bad), but it does need to convey real feeling so that someone experiencing something similar can connect with the truth of the writing and know that they are not alone.
The writing should convey not only feelings, but also sensations, events, experiences, facts, anecdotes, and character details because feelings alone make for a groundless, irresponsible rant with little context. Because words are beautiful, but they're also easily faked. It's easy enough to tell someone, "I love you." But it means more if you say "When I'm with you, everything in my life seems better" or "Your family makes me very uncomfortable but I will spend time with them because it means something to you" or "Did you ever notice that your left eyebrow always rises up just before you make a joke? Because I noticed that." The details give substance to the spirit and feeling.
Meaningful writing comes from feeling, from the conscience. And responsible writing uses significant details and contexts.
Of course, good writers should also try new things, new forms and styles-- not merely to shock but rather to add meaning and inspire creativity. That way not only are people comforted by the shared expression of feeling-- they are also excited and surprised, which is a very good thing for a reader to be. Because when people are excited and surprised, they let down some of those defenses, those walls they've been building around their emotions ever since the first time they got made fun of in middle school. They allow themselves to feel, and they become exposed. They become affected. And it is only in affected readers that writing truly finds success.
Poems, advice, stories, thoughts on life, book recommendations. Everything for no one. Something for everyone.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
Always ask questions, but don't question everything.
My desire's fire implores me to ask,
"How much mileage might I milk from this moment?
Can I overcome insecurity's snake?
Can I kill the cancerous contempt
Of folly's flippant fakes?
Will someone care about what I do?
Do I care about them-- or you?"
There comes a time
When questioning becomes benign
And all that matters
Are those things you're already doing.
Who cares what might be
When what is is good enough?
And is it? Is it really?
Or are you deluded?
Or am I for begging the question?
I don't have all the answers;
Some of them I do,
But some of them belong to you.
"How much mileage might I milk from this moment?
Can I overcome insecurity's snake?
Can I kill the cancerous contempt
Of folly's flippant fakes?
Will someone care about what I do?
Do I care about them-- or you?"
There comes a time
When questioning becomes benign
And all that matters
Are those things you're already doing.
Who cares what might be
When what is is good enough?
And is it? Is it really?
Or are you deluded?
Or am I for begging the question?
I don't have all the answers;
Some of them I do,
But some of them belong to you.
Working the Corner
Am I the only one who feels a whore
When unemployed yet seeking work?
Hire me! I'll love you longer and better--
Plus look how my backside shakes and jerks!
Mayhap I've discovered whoredom's genesis--
People needing work and not finding it.
Alas the Christian in me won't sell my heart
And the idealist won't let me settle or quit
And the Holden Caulfield won't let me play any game
But my own-- even if I don't understand it.
So I'm predisposed against whoredom
And yet... to perform an act without the feeling behind it--
To figure out what an employer desires,
Then sell myself with that in mind...
I feel that I'm a whore all the same--
A phony lover scraping by--
Too poor to afford a little shame.
When unemployed yet seeking work?
Hire me! I'll love you longer and better--
Plus look how my backside shakes and jerks!
Mayhap I've discovered whoredom's genesis--
People needing work and not finding it.
Alas the Christian in me won't sell my heart
And the idealist won't let me settle or quit
And the Holden Caulfield won't let me play any game
But my own-- even if I don't understand it.
So I'm predisposed against whoredom
And yet... to perform an act without the feeling behind it--
To figure out what an employer desires,
Then sell myself with that in mind...
I feel that I'm a whore all the same--
A phony lover scraping by--
Too poor to afford a little shame.
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