I recently came across a brief autobiographical essay by Elif Batuman, a lecturer in literature at Stanford University:
Confessions of an Accidental Literary Scholar
I admire her ability to stay true to what felt right to her, as a developing writer and scholar of literature, and not to take for granted the steps one is "supposed" to take to become a writer (e.g., get an MFA, go to writers colonies, etc)...of course, I am sure part of my fondness for this essay also stems from my shared love of Russian literature (which I recently started studying) and my own budding career in higher education (well, "budding career" might be a bit excessive, but I sure do love spending time in the libraries of the campus where I work).
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Showing posts with label writing. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Saturday, March 7, 2009
art school = waste of time?
I used to spend more time than I do now wondering whether my years as a graduate art student were a creative and financial waste of time. But once in a while I read something that gets those thoughts stirring in my head again.
I completed my MFA in Fine Arts in 2004, and I'm currently looking forward to paying off the loans I took out for this degree for the next 25 years or so. (Hm, hopefully not that long...c'mon lotto! Big money! No whammies!)
In the couple years after I graduated, as I slowly accepted the fact that loan repayment was to be my new constant companion, I doubted many times whether the financial investment was worth it. I rarely make (visual) art now, and I have no desire to teach art at a college level (this was the goal of many of my classmates, as the MFA is the terminal degree in the field and required for nearly any teaching position). I could not afford even to work in a (generally not monetarily awesome) field related to visual art, as it was crucial that I start making significant money immediately to pay back Uncle Sam.
Well, I'd had such thoughts clear from my head for some time, but they were just reactivated tonight by an article by Dave Hickey in the March 2009 issue of Art in America: "Revision Number Six: Addictions." (Note: I do not understand the meaning of this title - perhaps if I'd been reading Art in America regularly I'd know what the heck this title is all about?) (Also note: I've always enjoyed Dave Hickey's writing - I think he has an intelligent unique voice, and he doesn't apologize for going against the grain once in a while).
Anyhoo...in this article, Hickey argues that no school program can create an artist (you either are one or you're not) and that school can in fact damage artists.
These are arguments that I've heard, and contemplated, before. I believe there's some truth to these arguments.
On the other hand, I can also readily see some benefits of art school. The most glaring benefit, in my mind, is the opportunity to build a professional network. You could be an amazing artist, but if you don't know other artists or know people who can help get your work seen by others, what's the point?
Building a community of colleagues is also important, I think, as an emotional support system during the periods of self doubt that plague absolutely every artist I know.
It is because of the benefits of building a community of fellow artists that I am contemplating returning to school for an MFA in creative writing...but that's a topic for another post...
I completed my MFA in Fine Arts in 2004, and I'm currently looking forward to paying off the loans I took out for this degree for the next 25 years or so. (Hm, hopefully not that long...c'mon lotto! Big money! No whammies!)
In the couple years after I graduated, as I slowly accepted the fact that loan repayment was to be my new constant companion, I doubted many times whether the financial investment was worth it. I rarely make (visual) art now, and I have no desire to teach art at a college level (this was the goal of many of my classmates, as the MFA is the terminal degree in the field and required for nearly any teaching position). I could not afford even to work in a (generally not monetarily awesome) field related to visual art, as it was crucial that I start making significant money immediately to pay back Uncle Sam.
Well, I'd had such thoughts clear from my head for some time, but they were just reactivated tonight by an article by Dave Hickey in the March 2009 issue of Art in America: "Revision Number Six: Addictions." (Note: I do not understand the meaning of this title - perhaps if I'd been reading Art in America regularly I'd know what the heck this title is all about?) (Also note: I've always enjoyed Dave Hickey's writing - I think he has an intelligent unique voice, and he doesn't apologize for going against the grain once in a while).
Anyhoo...in this article, Hickey argues that no school program can create an artist (you either are one or you're not) and that school can in fact damage artists.
These are arguments that I've heard, and contemplated, before. I believe there's some truth to these arguments.
On the other hand, I can also readily see some benefits of art school. The most glaring benefit, in my mind, is the opportunity to build a professional network. You could be an amazing artist, but if you don't know other artists or know people who can help get your work seen by others, what's the point?
Building a community of colleagues is also important, I think, as an emotional support system during the periods of self doubt that plague absolutely every artist I know.
It is because of the benefits of building a community of fellow artists that I am contemplating returning to school for an MFA in creative writing...but that's a topic for another post...
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Cartooning is a beautiful art form.
Last Friday I went to a joint talk by Chris Ware and Marjane Satrapi, moderated by Françoise Mouly (New Yorker art director, wife of Art Spiegelman, etc). The talk was a free event of N.Y.U.'s Festival of New French Writing. I regret that I could not attend so many of the Festival's talks, but I am so glad I was able to catch this one at least.
I first started to become aware of Ware (har har) in 2002, when he was included in the 2002 Whitney Biennial for Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth. I was blown away by the incredible detail, and at the same time simplicity, evident in his work. The sheer number of hours that must've gone into production of this book-length comic (graphic novel?)...it was the only kind of artwork that seemed to not only engage me but give me the urge to run home and work on something myself. I love art with that effect.
As much as I find myself more and more interested in comics as an art form, I was still not aware of Satrapi, until Friday night. This despite the fact that the movie version of her book Persepolis had been nominated for an Oscar. (Certain parts of my pop culture knowledge simply have big gaping holes - I've come to accept this).
Anyway...I just wanted to say thank you to NYU for bringing Satrapi to my attention through this joint lecture series. It was such a treat to watch both her and Ware talk about their work. They're both excellent artists who work in the same genre but in totally different styles, and it was amazing to see comics taken so seriously by two such different personalities. Satrapi was full of energy and endlessly quotable, and Ware was, like the characters in his comics, endlessly apologizing for existing. Totally fascinating.
Last Friday I went to a joint talk by Chris Ware and Marjane Satrapi, moderated by Françoise Mouly (New Yorker art director, wife of Art Spiegelman, etc). The talk was a free event of N.Y.U.'s Festival of New French Writing. I regret that I could not attend so many of the Festival's talks, but I am so glad I was able to catch this one at least.
I first started to become aware of Ware (har har) in 2002, when he was included in the 2002 Whitney Biennial for Jimmy Corrigan, the Smartest Kid on Earth. I was blown away by the incredible detail, and at the same time simplicity, evident in his work. The sheer number of hours that must've gone into production of this book-length comic (graphic novel?)...it was the only kind of artwork that seemed to not only engage me but give me the urge to run home and work on something myself. I love art with that effect.
As much as I find myself more and more interested in comics as an art form, I was still not aware of Satrapi, until Friday night. This despite the fact that the movie version of her book Persepolis had been nominated for an Oscar. (Certain parts of my pop culture knowledge simply have big gaping holes - I've come to accept this).
Anyway...I just wanted to say thank you to NYU for bringing Satrapi to my attention through this joint lecture series. It was such a treat to watch both her and Ware talk about their work. They're both excellent artists who work in the same genre but in totally different styles, and it was amazing to see comics taken so seriously by two such different personalities. Satrapi was full of energy and endlessly quotable, and Ware was, like the characters in his comics, endlessly apologizing for existing. Totally fascinating.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
books on writing
I have been writing a LOT recently (really, I have - just not on this blog).
I am having a blast discovering my apparent passion for writing, and I am also reading more than ever, devouring books.
One thing I've noticed is that there are tons of books out there ABOUT writing: books about finding your voice, books about honing your craft, books about getting published. I started to think that absolutely everyone must want to be a writer, for there to be so many books out there on the subject of writing.
But then I thought: perhaps it makes sense that there are so many books on writing. After all, writers write, and one area that all writers have some level of knowledge about is...writing. So perhaps many authors feel inclined to pen a book on their craft.
There are plenty of books out there about pursuing art, music, etc...but books on writing outnumber them all.
Naturally - if you are a writer, you write...if you are an artist or musician, maybe you write, and maybe you don't, but the pool of authors for books in those fields must be considerably smaller than it is for writing.
This post officially wins the award for most frequent use of the word writing.
I am having a blast discovering my apparent passion for writing, and I am also reading more than ever, devouring books.
One thing I've noticed is that there are tons of books out there ABOUT writing: books about finding your voice, books about honing your craft, books about getting published. I started to think that absolutely everyone must want to be a writer, for there to be so many books out there on the subject of writing.
But then I thought: perhaps it makes sense that there are so many books on writing. After all, writers write, and one area that all writers have some level of knowledge about is...writing. So perhaps many authors feel inclined to pen a book on their craft.
There are plenty of books out there about pursuing art, music, etc...but books on writing outnumber them all.
Naturally - if you are a writer, you write...if you are an artist or musician, maybe you write, and maybe you don't, but the pool of authors for books in those fields must be considerably smaller than it is for writing.
This post officially wins the award for most frequent use of the word writing.
Monday, December 22, 2008
Gonna try, gonna try...
...gonna try to write a little something here everyday. Again. (While giving myself exceptions for vacations and such).
Let's see what happens.
Let's see what happens.
Friday, November 14, 2008
New President
I have been a slacker on this blog for the past week.
I am thrilled about the results of our Presidential election, and I've been celebrating. I spent the night of the election in Union Square...it was an awesome spontaneous public party...crowds kept convening, people started body surfing. The feeling in the air was joyous.
But I've been a slacker on this here blog. All of my post-election discussion energy has been spent in the Comments sections of MooreThoughts, the Nashville Republican blog run by my sister and brother-in-law. Reading their blog posts has provided a stark contrast to sense of hope and happiness I've experienced in New York all week, and it's been interesting, if frustrating, interacting with them online.
I'll get back to writing on my own blog again soon, very soon...
I am thrilled about the results of our Presidential election, and I've been celebrating. I spent the night of the election in Union Square...it was an awesome spontaneous public party...crowds kept convening, people started body surfing. The feeling in the air was joyous.
But I've been a slacker on this here blog. All of my post-election discussion energy has been spent in the Comments sections of MooreThoughts, the Nashville Republican blog run by my sister and brother-in-law. Reading their blog posts has provided a stark contrast to sense of hope and happiness I've experienced in New York all week, and it's been interesting, if frustrating, interacting with them online.
I'll get back to writing on my own blog again soon, very soon...
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Late Bloomers
I've been in a bit of a creative funk lately. Creative block, maybe? Creative hiatus? Creative laziness?
In any case, I haven't been making things like I've wanted to (this includes music, writing, art, etc), and I've been worried that I'm spinning my wheels yet again, succumbing to the mild depression that has reared its head in my life ever since high school.
Today I got a nice creative kick in the butt by having tea with one of my ex-professors-turned-friends. Just getting out of the house and talking to someone who has taught me about art and who still believes in my ability to do something significant was pretty inspiring.
So I went right out and purchased myself a mic stand, which I've been meaning to do for months, went home and recorded rough demos of two songs I wrote in August. It's amazing how much easier my life feels all of a sudden with a cheap $40 boom microphone stand.
Sometimes, you just gotta spend a few bucks and do something simple to get the ball rolling.
I now feel like I am prepared to record new ideas anytime they come to me, which is very liberating.
And just to seal my improved outlook this evening...I received the latest issue of New Yorker magazine in my mailbox today, and in the issue was an article called "Late Bloomers (Why do we equate genius with precocity?)," which I just finished reading.
Malcolm Gladwell, the article's author, presents a theory on creative people that was developed by David Galenson, an economist at the University of Chicago. Galenson had come to the conclusion, through his research, that creative people can be divided into two types:
1) prodigies, who produce their best work early in their career and tend to be "conceptual"
2) late bloomers, who are "experimental" and produce their best work only after years and maybe decades of work
Anyhoo... it was liberating to read this article, and somehow made me feel a bit less like I've been flailing around for the past ten years, somehow wasting my time.
I have a lot of work to do, creatively, but I feel hopeful, which is an important step towards moving forward.
I highly recommend the article.
In any case, I haven't been making things like I've wanted to (this includes music, writing, art, etc), and I've been worried that I'm spinning my wheels yet again, succumbing to the mild depression that has reared its head in my life ever since high school.
Today I got a nice creative kick in the butt by having tea with one of my ex-professors-turned-friends. Just getting out of the house and talking to someone who has taught me about art and who still believes in my ability to do something significant was pretty inspiring.
So I went right out and purchased myself a mic stand, which I've been meaning to do for months, went home and recorded rough demos of two songs I wrote in August. It's amazing how much easier my life feels all of a sudden with a cheap $40 boom microphone stand.
Sometimes, you just gotta spend a few bucks and do something simple to get the ball rolling.
I now feel like I am prepared to record new ideas anytime they come to me, which is very liberating.
And just to seal my improved outlook this evening...I received the latest issue of New Yorker magazine in my mailbox today, and in the issue was an article called "Late Bloomers (Why do we equate genius with precocity?)," which I just finished reading.
Malcolm Gladwell, the article's author, presents a theory on creative people that was developed by David Galenson, an economist at the University of Chicago. Galenson had come to the conclusion, through his research, that creative people can be divided into two types:
1) prodigies, who produce their best work early in their career and tend to be "conceptual"
2) late bloomers, who are "experimental" and produce their best work only after years and maybe decades of work
Anyhoo... it was liberating to read this article, and somehow made me feel a bit less like I've been flailing around for the past ten years, somehow wasting my time.
I have a lot of work to do, creatively, but I feel hopeful, which is an important step towards moving forward.
I highly recommend the article.
Monday, October 13, 2008
I have a new life motto...
...and it is:
"If you don't have to work tomorrow, then fuck with your neurons."
(My previous life motto, for those keeping track, was "Get the fuck over yourself." It seems I have a penchant for including the word "fuck" in my life mottos. Sorry, Mom.)
Anyhoo...
I realize my new life motto could be interpreted in any number of ways, depending on one's preferred method of fucking with one's neurons. In my case, this evening, I preferred an entirely wholesome, nerdy, intellectual approach to my motto.
I got it into my head, during a brief phone call with my dear buddy Beth, that it would be a good idea to whip out some of the art criticism I haven't glanced at since grad school, to give it another go. My brain is a bit out of practice, art-criticism-apprehension-wise, and I thought it might be illuminating to revisit some stuff I haven't thought about in years, to see if my accumulated experience since grad school has provided me with new and/or improved methods of understanding (others') ideas.
I was a bit scared to open up the cobwebs of my art brain, but then I thought, "Hey, fuck it. I have the day off tomorrow...and I can choose to stay up late trying to understand cryptic art critical text all I wanna. Yeah!"
Party. Fucking with my neurons.
Hence, my new life motto.
And I *did* go through some old photocopied handouts from grad school for my possible reading pleasure, and I settled on "Grids" by Rosalind Krauss, from her collection of essays The Originality of the Avant-Garde and Other Modernist Myths.
Yep.
It was a tiny bit of a struggle to get through the entire text, but I tried not to let small moments of incomprehension stop me from plowing through til the end. I was helped along by a glass of red wine. Fuck those neurons.
"If you don't have to work tomorrow, then fuck with your neurons."
(My previous life motto, for those keeping track, was "Get the fuck over yourself." It seems I have a penchant for including the word "fuck" in my life mottos. Sorry, Mom.)
Anyhoo...
I realize my new life motto could be interpreted in any number of ways, depending on one's preferred method of fucking with one's neurons. In my case, this evening, I preferred an entirely wholesome, nerdy, intellectual approach to my motto.
I got it into my head, during a brief phone call with my dear buddy Beth, that it would be a good idea to whip out some of the art criticism I haven't glanced at since grad school, to give it another go. My brain is a bit out of practice, art-criticism-apprehension-wise, and I thought it might be illuminating to revisit some stuff I haven't thought about in years, to see if my accumulated experience since grad school has provided me with new and/or improved methods of understanding (others') ideas.
I was a bit scared to open up the cobwebs of my art brain, but then I thought, "Hey, fuck it. I have the day off tomorrow...and I can choose to stay up late trying to understand cryptic art critical text all I wanna. Yeah!"
Party. Fucking with my neurons.
Hence, my new life motto.
And I *did* go through some old photocopied handouts from grad school for my possible reading pleasure, and I settled on "Grids" by Rosalind Krauss, from her collection of essays The Originality of the Avant-Garde and Other Modernist Myths.
Yep.
It was a tiny bit of a struggle to get through the entire text, but I tried not to let small moments of incomprehension stop me from plowing through til the end. I was helped along by a glass of red wine. Fuck those neurons.
Thursday, September 11, 2008
whine.
I'm a big journal keeper. Been writing in journals since I was seven or so, and I still have all of 'em.
All except one, that is.
Two nights ago, I stupidly left my journal behind at a bar I go to a lot. Been writing in this puppy since December, and it was nearly full. Tried calling the bar, tried calling friends I saw there that night, even went to the bar myself to look around with a flashlight...
My journal is gone.
I am sad.
But I will move on.
I do wish ill things to the loser who picked it up, however.
All except one, that is.
Two nights ago, I stupidly left my journal behind at a bar I go to a lot. Been writing in this puppy since December, and it was nearly full. Tried calling the bar, tried calling friends I saw there that night, even went to the bar myself to look around with a flashlight...
My journal is gone.
I am sad.
But I will move on.
I do wish ill things to the loser who picked it up, however.
Sunday, June 8, 2008
This one's for my sis'...
So I haven't posted in a while. It's been about a month and a half since my last entry here. Sure, I felt like a slacker for dropping the writing ball, but I didn't think my grand readership of 2-3 people (by my estimate) would mind terribly the lack of fresh material.
Well, apparently one reader does mind: my sister, Sarah.
I recently went to Maryland for a long weekend - I stayed at my parents' house with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, who were visiting from Nashville. During said visit, I learned that Sarah regularly checks my blog for new material, usually two times a week, and she was growing tired of seeing the same post at the top time and time again. I was flattered that she was so devoted, and upset that I was letting down my singular steadfast reader.
So...I promise to write more. There are things to write about, and I just ain't been doing it.
That being said, I present:
A CHALLENGE (to my, um, many readers, sister included)
The CHALLENGE is this (well, it's a challenge to myself, too): I promise to write a blog post on any subject matter that is presented to me through a comment to this post.
Frankly, I don't think I'm setting myself up for much work here, because I fear that my readers have all but disappeared. But, hey, if you prove me wrong, I promise to write away. I hope you do.
Well, apparently one reader does mind: my sister, Sarah.
I recently went to Maryland for a long weekend - I stayed at my parents' house with my sister, brother-in-law, and niece, who were visiting from Nashville. During said visit, I learned that Sarah regularly checks my blog for new material, usually two times a week, and she was growing tired of seeing the same post at the top time and time again. I was flattered that she was so devoted, and upset that I was letting down my singular steadfast reader.
So...I promise to write more. There are things to write about, and I just ain't been doing it.
That being said, I present:
A CHALLENGE (to my, um, many readers, sister included)
The CHALLENGE is this (well, it's a challenge to myself, too): I promise to write a blog post on any subject matter that is presented to me through a comment to this post.
Frankly, I don't think I'm setting myself up for much work here, because I fear that my readers have all but disappeared. But, hey, if you prove me wrong, I promise to write away. I hope you do.
Monday, April 21, 2008
Live Through This
My friend Sabrina Chapadjiev has been working her butt off for at least the past year getting this amazing book together, and it's finally done. I went to one of the reading release parties here in New York a few days ago, and the presentations by contributors Cristy C. Road, Nicole Blackman, Fly, Silas Howard, and Bonfire Madigan Shive were just amazing. Do yourself a favor and check this out:
Live Through This: On Creativity and Self-Destruction.
Here is a quote from the back of the book jacket (which, by the way, includes endorsements by Janeane Garofalo, Lydia Lunch, and Sara Quin of Tegan and Sara, among others):
"...(Live Through This) is a collection of original stories, essays, artwork and photography. It explores the use of art to survive abuse, incest, madness and depression, and the often deep-seated impulse toward self-destruction including cutting, eating disorders and addiction..."
Full list of contributors: Nan Goldin, Patricia Smith, bell hooks, Eileen Myles, Inga M. Muscio, Diane DiMassa, Fly, Cristy C. Road, Annie Sprinkle, Elizabeth Stephens, Nicole Blackman, Stephanie Howell, Daphne Gottlieb, Carolyn Gage, Carol Queen, Anonymous, Kate Bornstein, Silas Howard, Toni Blackman, and Bonfire Madigan Shive.
I am so proud of my friend and so thankful she has put this amazing book out into the world.
Live Through This: On Creativity and Self-Destruction.
Here is a quote from the back of the book jacket (which, by the way, includes endorsements by Janeane Garofalo, Lydia Lunch, and Sara Quin of Tegan and Sara, among others):
"...(Live Through This) is a collection of original stories, essays, artwork and photography. It explores the use of art to survive abuse, incest, madness and depression, and the often deep-seated impulse toward self-destruction including cutting, eating disorders and addiction..."
Full list of contributors: Nan Goldin, Patricia Smith, bell hooks, Eileen Myles, Inga M. Muscio, Diane DiMassa, Fly, Cristy C. Road, Annie Sprinkle, Elizabeth Stephens, Nicole Blackman, Stephanie Howell, Daphne Gottlieb, Carolyn Gage, Carol Queen, Anonymous, Kate Bornstein, Silas Howard, Toni Blackman, and Bonfire Madigan Shive.
I am so proud of my friend and so thankful she has put this amazing book out into the world.
Saturday, March 1, 2008
February didn't exist this year
Yeah, so it's a leap year, and even with that extra day in February, I somehow didn't manage to write one new blog post the entire month.
It seemed like a pretty full month, though. It seemed there was plenty to write about...yet, I didn't. And now I can hardly remember what all happened all month long. I'll blame that memory lapse on a long week instead of on the inevitable fact that I am getting older.
I'm having a few folks over tomorrow for a bit of a housewarming. I've been in this apartment for about 4 1/2 months...what can I say, it takes me a while to settle in. I do like to make a space nice and livable before I subject outsiders to it.
This February blur is bothering me. I suppose, at least, that if I were going to let a whole month slip by that it's just as well that it's the shortest month of the year. The shortest month, with one extra day.
Maybe I should write more often.
It seemed like a pretty full month, though. It seemed there was plenty to write about...yet, I didn't. And now I can hardly remember what all happened all month long. I'll blame that memory lapse on a long week instead of on the inevitable fact that I am getting older.
I'm having a few folks over tomorrow for a bit of a housewarming. I've been in this apartment for about 4 1/2 months...what can I say, it takes me a while to settle in. I do like to make a space nice and livable before I subject outsiders to it.
This February blur is bothering me. I suppose, at least, that if I were going to let a whole month slip by that it's just as well that it's the shortest month of the year. The shortest month, with one extra day.
Maybe I should write more often.
Tuesday, January 15, 2008
The Gift
I am happily in the middle of reading several books right now. In one book in particular, I am making extremely slow progress. This is because I come across a thought every few pages that gets me contemplating my approach to my own creative pursuits. The book I am referring to is the 25th anniversary edition of The Gift by Lewis Hyde.
I knew nothing about this book or its cult following when I bought it. I was simply shopping for a gift certificate Christmas present in my local independent bookstore in December when, as usual, I found myself drawn to the table of new paperbacks. It is very difficult for me to resist the urge to buy a book in a good bookstore. For this reason, Strand bookstore in New York is a dangerously tempting place for me to enter.
I think it's too early in my reading of The Gift to give a thorough review of it, so for now I will say that I am intermittently enjoying it greatly and will provide a link to some other folks' thoughts on the book:
Re-Gifting by Dwight Garner in the New York Times Online
Why did I pick up this book and buy it, with no prior knowledge of its existence? I couldn't resist the praise on its cover, including Margaret Atwood's assessment that The Gift is "The best book I know of for talented but unacknowledged creators. A masterpiece."
(p.s.: My apologies for the lack of proper italics in this post - I am having difficulties with my Safari browser.)
I knew nothing about this book or its cult following when I bought it. I was simply shopping for a gift certificate Christmas present in my local independent bookstore in December when, as usual, I found myself drawn to the table of new paperbacks. It is very difficult for me to resist the urge to buy a book in a good bookstore. For this reason, Strand bookstore in New York is a dangerously tempting place for me to enter.
I think it's too early in my reading of The Gift to give a thorough review of it, so for now I will say that I am intermittently enjoying it greatly and will provide a link to some other folks' thoughts on the book:
Re-Gifting by Dwight Garner in the New York Times Online
Why did I pick up this book and buy it, with no prior knowledge of its existence? I couldn't resist the praise on its cover, including Margaret Atwood's assessment that The Gift is "The best book I know of for talented but unacknowledged creators. A masterpiece."
(p.s.: My apologies for the lack of proper italics in this post - I am having difficulties with my Safari browser.)
Thursday, October 11, 2007
Breakin' this hiatus
My blog is getting off to a shaky start, as I haven't posted to it now in weeks, and there are only three posts before this one to begin with.
Such lapses in productivity cause me to consider my lifelong companion: Procrastination.
Most people I have met are familiar with procrastination, and some succumb to it more than others. In my experience, people procrastinate for one of two reasons: 1) They don't really want to do the thing that they are putting off, or 2) They REALLY REALLY want to do the thing that they are putting off, and they are just not giving themselves the time and permission to get to it already. Or, maybe people are just lazy.
I find that procrastination is most deadly when beefed up by Excuse-Making.
It's easy to say that life can get in the way, people get busy, blah, blah, blah... I can verifiably say that I have had plenty going on in my life in the last few weeks, plenty to keep me busy outside of this blog. But, I also like to follow things through as long as I still have interest in them, and I am most certainly still interested in this blog.
So, in an attempt to keep my posts more free-flowing, I am going to be less prohibitive with my choice of posting topics. Maybe I'll even supplement the social criticism with some straight-up creative writing. Life is hard enough without placing further restrictions on oneself, I say...and I just want to write more.
Such lapses in productivity cause me to consider my lifelong companion: Procrastination.
Most people I have met are familiar with procrastination, and some succumb to it more than others. In my experience, people procrastinate for one of two reasons: 1) They don't really want to do the thing that they are putting off, or 2) They REALLY REALLY want to do the thing that they are putting off, and they are just not giving themselves the time and permission to get to it already. Or, maybe people are just lazy.
I find that procrastination is most deadly when beefed up by Excuse-Making.
It's easy to say that life can get in the way, people get busy, blah, blah, blah... I can verifiably say that I have had plenty going on in my life in the last few weeks, plenty to keep me busy outside of this blog. But, I also like to follow things through as long as I still have interest in them, and I am most certainly still interested in this blog.
So, in an attempt to keep my posts more free-flowing, I am going to be less prohibitive with my choice of posting topics. Maybe I'll even supplement the social criticism with some straight-up creative writing. Life is hard enough without placing further restrictions on oneself, I say...and I just want to write more.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Why write?
It's been over a week now since my last posting here, and I think I know why...Ever since I started this blog with a single post, I have found myself slightly overwhelmed by the number of topics I might find myself discussing through text. What would be the direction of my blog? Would there even be a "direction," or would this be something that emerged only as time passed and posts accumulated?
In an attempt to dive into my questions about writing even more deeply, I began reading Negotiating with the Dead: A Writer on Writing, by Margaret Atwood, last night. This, of course, only got me thinking more, and prompted ever more questions in my head: Why write? What is the urge to write? What is my urge to write?
I suppose that writing can serve many purposes: communication, persuasion, documentation, explanation, entertainment, etc...But talking can also serve many of these purposes, in the form of conversation, debate, storytelling, etc. So how do I choose what to talk about and what to write about?
What is the difference between talking and writing? I suppose, if one has written something, and someone else is reading it, then there is no opportunity for that someone else to interrupt the writer, as is possible in live communication. Of course, the reader could also very well choose to close the book, or journal, or article or whatever, to stop reading...and isn't that the ultimate interruption? There's no chance to win your reader back if they refuse to listen.
Win your reader back?
Is this a contest?
A fight?
A debate?
These thoughts on writing are occupying my mind.
I don't mean to imply with these questions that I desire to win people over to my point of view (though, this is surely bound to be the case sometimes). Rather, I ask these questions because I am curious as to why people take the time to read particular authors, or listen to particular speakers.
In an attempt to dive into my questions about writing even more deeply, I began reading Negotiating with the Dead: A Writer on Writing, by Margaret Atwood, last night. This, of course, only got me thinking more, and prompted ever more questions in my head: Why write? What is the urge to write? What is my urge to write?
I suppose that writing can serve many purposes: communication, persuasion, documentation, explanation, entertainment, etc...But talking can also serve many of these purposes, in the form of conversation, debate, storytelling, etc. So how do I choose what to talk about and what to write about?
What is the difference between talking and writing? I suppose, if one has written something, and someone else is reading it, then there is no opportunity for that someone else to interrupt the writer, as is possible in live communication. Of course, the reader could also very well choose to close the book, or journal, or article or whatever, to stop reading...and isn't that the ultimate interruption? There's no chance to win your reader back if they refuse to listen.
Win your reader back?
Is this a contest?
A fight?
A debate?
These thoughts on writing are occupying my mind.
I don't mean to imply with these questions that I desire to win people over to my point of view (though, this is surely bound to be the case sometimes). Rather, I ask these questions because I am curious as to why people take the time to read particular authors, or listen to particular speakers.
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