In Order to Write
December 6th, 2009
I have often made this point in conversation, and I have implied it in various posts before, but let me make it a little more formally now: we need to reject the assumption that one must be a writer, either by profession or by special vocation, in order to write.
As with so much else in our culture, we have come to believe that writing is best left to the experts, to those with the credentials or the publications that certify them as real writers, and our choice has become either to acquire these credentials and these publications so that we too can be real writers or to stop writing altogether. Rather than accept this choice, a choice that assigns writing to the realm of the expert no matter how it is answered, we need to reclaim the place of amateur writing, not a writing that only accepts amateurism for a time as a means to pursue a future professionalism, but a writing that celebrates amateurism as such. We need to reclaim a writing that addresses its own place, its own locality, its own community. We need to write poetry for our spouses and stories for our children and letters for our friends, not because these things might one day be published, but because they will not be published, because their purpose is already fulfilled when they are received by those we love, and because it is precisely this that makes them valuable.
This kind of amateurism is not an excuse to write poorly, to write hastily, to write carelessly. Quite the opposite: to write as a true amateur, to write out of love for writing and out of love for the one that writing addresses, is always to write with the utmost care. It is precisely because I write for the one I love rather than for a public that I do not even know, precisely because I write as an amateur, that I write as best I can, always and in every case, as best I can. Whether or not this writing meets the standards imposed by the world of publication is entirely beside the point. These are the standards of professionalism, and they cannot measure what is written by the amateur. The writing of the amateur finds its measure only in the relation between the one who writes and the one who receives, because the writing of the amateur is always this: a gift. It is and can be nothing else.
7 Responses to “In Order to Write”
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From Word to Word by Jeremy Luke Hill is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-Share Alike 2.5 Canada License.
December 6th, 2009 at 8:38 pm
As with so much else in our culture, we have come to believe that writing is best left to the experts, to those with the credentials or the publications that certify them as real writers, and our choice has become either to acquire these credentials and these publications so that we too can be real writers or to stop writing altogether.
Unfortunately, the only response I have to this is: who do you think constitutes “we”?
More and better writing is being produced now, today, by more people than has ever been produced before, at any time in the history of civilization, ever. NaNoWriMo. Blogs. Zines, fan fiction, you name it, the quantity of it is staggering.
Putting a manifesto like this on the internet, of all places, gives the impression of a man caught in the middle of a towering forest fire, looking for a light for his cigarette.
December 6th, 2009 at 10:30 pm
Mike,
I agree with you that the internet has made possible more and better writing than there has been at any previous point in history, and part of what I love about the net is that it allows this production apart from a strict adherence to the criteria of a publishing industry. I would suggest, however, that writing for the net remains a writing for publication in several crucial ways. Though it can sometimes be an amateur writing,and though its professional writing, when at its best, approaches an amateur writing very closely, it is not exactly the kind of writing that I am advocating here. I am advocating for a kind of writing that never actually appears at all beyond the relationship that fosters it. I am advocating for a writing that is strictly amateur, in that it is strictly motivated by love for the one who receives it.
December 7th, 2009 at 11:50 am
Mike, I would like to point out that your analogy is flawed. A raging forest fire is too overwhelming to get close to, nor is it something you can harness or fight if either of those two options presented themselves a necessary. What Luke is talking about analogous wise is more of a strictly personal flame, which you may cup your hand around for your relief, or lend to another for theirs. I do believe what he is talking about is the difference between your hearth at home, and the public bonfire you might use at a festival. And I do believe he is lamenting the fact that in our society, unless it is going to be added to the inferno, or be part of the bonfire, no one really considers burning things at home for their own simple warmth.
December 20th, 2009 at 11:30 pm
Absolutely. And not just with writing, but other forms of art too.
Music comes to mind for me. In our culture, we have musicians, singers, dancers… When someone says that they “can’t sing,” it always frustrates me a little. Culture doesn’t have to be performance—creativity, at its heart, is a social act.
December 21st, 2009 at 9:19 am
Blaise,
Yes, I agree. I certainly do not have a voice that warrants a recording contract, but I sing nevertheless, in choirs (over the years), or at church, or around the house with my children (they are currently listening to Bob Dylan), or with my wife at the piano. This kind of social expression of creativity is difficult for many people, however, because they have been taught to believe that only the recording contract verifies a singer. We need to teach people that other ways are possible.
I come from a family of five, three of whom have gone on to do music in a semi-professional way, and all of whom continue to share music as a family, but this social expression of music is something that was taught to us. My parents used to dress us up in matching outfits and have us sing at family reunions and church events. I was often embarrassed by this, particularly as a young teen, but what I learned was valuable: to share our creativity with one another is a gift.
January 19th, 2010 at 3:01 pm
[...] unique and beautiful about them, perhaps just for this reason. They are, in many respects, just the kind of personal and amateur art that I have elsewhere argued should be encouraged as a way of m…, and I enjoyed this aspect of them very [...]
February 7th, 2010 at 7:01 pm
[...] wrote a letter to my grandmother a little while ago. I was partly reminded of the need for such writing by Luke, but also I had wanted to connect some of my current work with my past. Yesterday my grandmother [...]