Welcome Writers
It does not matter whether or not you are published. If you happened to come upon my blog and want to comment or express some current frustration on writing, please feel free to do so.
I have every intention of writing what I feel like writing and everyone is free to do so. I just don't want to see anyone bashing someone else. Heavens knows we as writers get it from critics, publishers, agents and just about everyone else including friends and relatives so don't do it here unless it is people in general.
I have every intention of writing what I feel like writing and everyone is free to do so. I just don't want to see anyone bashing someone else. Heavens knows we as writers get it from critics, publishers, agents and just about everyone else including friends and relatives so don't do it here unless it is people in general.
Tuesday, August 3, 2010
Driven By Some Demon
"Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand."
-George Orwell "Why I Write" 1947
I am working on a book of short stories. It is my first attempt to write a collection. I don't have a title although I do have a theme. I have done novels before and wanted to write short stories to look at some issues about writing. I thought I would just write some stories and send them off. I am in a country where going to the post office might not be possible. Then I started to think I might try a book of short stories.
I have never really like this form of fiction with some exceptions. I loved reading the Sherlock Holmes stories by Doyle as a young teenager. It was during that time when I happened to read some short stories by Somerset Maugham and found that I could like some short stories. Maugham's story "Rain" was wonderful. Since then I have read others in this form and enjoyed them but not often. One that I read not too long ago was "Brokeback Mountain" by Anne Proux. It was a wonderful story. I wanted to do a few things with this form.
I enjoyed the novel more because once I got into a story that I liked, I wanted to stay there a while. I wanted to wear it for a longer period of time and get to know the characters. In a short story, the characters are gone just as I am getting to know them. Already I am finding this the case as I write the stories and I hate to see them go so soon.
The choice of writing and not writing was never an issue. I must write. Even if I never see a successful career other than a hit and miss type of affair as I have now I would still do it. I understand the image of a demon in Orwell's words. I can't stop writing. It drives me to do it when no one is reading me, when there is no guarantee that anyone will ever read me, when what I am writing is not what the public wants or may ever want. It just does not matter. If I am listening to a lecture I tie it into whatever project I happen to be working on. If I listen to a video on Joseph Campbell, I put some of what he said in a story that I am working on. I love doing this. I love writing.
But writing can be horrible and exhausting as Orwell states. It can also break your heart when the brown envelop comes back with the rejection letter in it. Being a writer is a solitary existence and sometimes it can be a lonely one. It can even be a dangerous one in which people attack you or call you names when you are published. When you are paid, it is so little that you wonder if working at a fast food restaurant would make you more money and you suspect it would. People criticize your work but never put their stuff out there. Complete strangers will tell you that they could do it better.
I have decided to stay in Korea for awhile and to sizzle in this humid heat instead of going home. Why would I consider suffering when there is a perfectly good house in Northern California waiting for me? Because with all of the insanity that is here and all of the bad weather I can write here. Who else but a demon can make me do such a thing?
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