Our misery as writers

Dr.Jack

That's Cap'n to you!
Dear fellow writers,

I love to consider myself a writer. There is so much joy not only in telling I'm a writer but seeing people's reactions. Some are doubtful, skeptical about my talent and seriousness. Others somewhat impressed or even threatened. A few, the dear few, interested and contributive. Those are the people that I can interact with the best. The people that understand me the most, people that I found the interesting, smart, and like me.

I don't know why there is such a bound between as fellow writers. Perhaps its because our way of thinking is similar. Perhaps because the same things interest us. Even maybe its because we are simply arrogant and snobs? I'm not sure, but I know that there is a bound, a bound that is hard to express and times even notice.

Of course us writers enjoy many more important things I consider our very own privileges that no one else can share. With that I want to talk about something completely else today - our suffering that comes from our passion to write.

Firstly we must analyze - what is this passion of writing? This is a thing I thought about a lot of time. Many things can be said but I'm going to ignore most of them and go what to what I think is relevant regarding this topic. Our passion to write involves our desperate need to understand things in this world. Essential, fundamental things - things that understanding them is necessary on the one hand but probably impossible on the other. In addition to that that as writers we need to let the world know what our opinions are. We can't sit quietly, we need to shout our thoughts, scream, make a difference!

From those two things comes our misery. Tied with the joy that the writing gives. At times I think its not worth it and curse the fact that I was born a writer. I can feel the depression writing gives me flowing through my veins into my heart and soul.

Our desperate passion - no, our desperate need to understand things without being able to can do nothing else but drive us mad. I found myself to often thinking without being able to understand. Too often I went through the barrier of fear thinking on things (such as death or love) but still I could not gasp the true meaning of my thoughts. Over the years I found myself more and more understanding the words of great writers and philosophers due to that.

As if that wasn't enough we have another need that is often left unsatisfied. Our need to share our thoughts and make a place for them in the world. Whether its in a form of a story, poem, article or a novel - a true masterpiece can't be written without having the taste of the writers true thoughts. Perhaps they will be hidden. Perhaps even the writer himself will not be aware of some of his thoughts - but they will always be there waiting to be found. Very often I find myself having a thought is not defined. Half of an idea, or a blurry image, or a strange feeling, or the beginning of an idea and I have no way to express it. I don't know it will enough to expand it make it come alive. Its something that never leaves you. The fear of having an enlightenment and not being able to share it.

I wanted to share with you my thoughts. This is something I feel as a human being and as I writer. I hope you, dear friends, could share the same feelings or at least understand them.

Yours,
Dr.Jack.



P.S. This is just a few thoughts I wanted to share. Its actually based on something I long ago, and I completely changed it and re-wrote it. Its quite superficial (or is shallow the write term? my apologies English is not my native language), but I hope it will give you something to think about. I wrote it in a crazed drive of emotions. Maybe you agree with what I wrote, maybe not, I will be happy to hear what you think. I may write more of these in the future.

Also please excuse any unclear sentences/misspelling of words/grammar mistakes. English is not my native language and so my use of it my not be on the best side. I hope you will still take this seriously.
 

Ninva

Анна Ахматова
When I really reflect on my life, I realize that writing really affects my social life. Of course illiterates will have no clue what we do, but I don't care. No one writes for my school paper, so I write it myself. It's kinda tough when no one of your own age recognizes you or appreciate you (besides teachers and adults). This is why I write here.

Life as an amateur writer in Wisconsin is lonely.
 

Arcane

You can change this now in User CP.
You nailed everything, including the "arrogant snob" bit.

Some times when I've made a great breakthrough, whether its in my own understanding of the world, or something I've just created, I just want to scream to the world: LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT ME! LOOK AT WHAT I'VE DONE!

Unfortunately, there are so few - as you have noted - who are "interested and contributive" in the things we do, and it does indeed make being a writer very lonely.


On a partially unrelated note, this quote came to me when I was reading this:

“A writer is a person for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people.”

- Thomas Mann
 

Genkora

Frog blast the vent core!
Instead of "arrogant and snobs," you should just drop the and. Arrogant snobs. /proof though of writers' arrogance.
 

Lyerae

I keep popping up on this site from time to time.
Emotions are what fuel us... Without them, we are alone.
 

Bloodcount

Starcraft II Moderator
Staff member
I am a theater actor. I am a writer. I am proud to call myself a writer. Nothing, nothing will ever change that. I know that we live in a f*cked up community, where just a hand full of people read. Most of them are too zombifyed into the lame movies... Yes, we do live in what would appear to be a "misery" BUT, never, and I do mean never, will I be ashamed to call myself a writer. No, I am proud, and proud I SHALL REMAIN!!!

I do hope that someone will qft me :p


Edit: Also writing is like a sweet poison to me. I curse it, but there is nothing like the feeling you get when you have finally completed your work and you see people enjoying it.
 
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