‘There is something wonderful in feeling the presence of the writer within you, of something wilful that seems to have a plan’ … George Saunders
Until I began writing my blog, I had never actually called myself a writer. I dabbled in poetry as a child and thrived in it as a teen, I began to write short stories in my early twenties and thirties but calling myself a writer felt like a lie. A few of my poems were published many years ago but that moderate success never brought with it the title of ‘writer’.
Blogging opened up a narrow passage for me that eventually widened into an avenue. The more I blogged, the more I found my voice. And the more I found my voice, the more confident I felt about my words. I had to master that voice before I could ever be convinced that calling myself a writer was even close to being accurate.
Now my writing avenue has blossomed into a two-lane highway. I am drawn to that macadam and travel the road with more confidence than I ever have. The voice that I hear in the back of my head telling me I can write IS wilful and does seem to have a plan. The book that I had envisioned years ago, the one that sat lifeless in the obscured corners of my brain, now seems to be writing itself and using me as a vehicle to record its story and the nuances of its characters.
Feeling that writer within me come to life and feast on words is a feeling I can only liken to euphoria. There is something deeply intoxicating about being able to lose yourself for hours and create four thousand words of text that seem exciting and suspenseful. I can only hope that when I finish writing the book someone else will share my passion for the story and help me promote myself from the title of writer to published author.
Both the title and the quote really drew me right into this.
It speaks to a soft and pleasurable symbiosis between the writer and the story, which appeals to me.
Orwell likened it to an arduous and painful process, and sometimes it is. I think that may be more related to the subject matter or certain turns of the plot, which may be unpleasant, like having to kill one of the main characters that you created because the story seemed to demand it, no matter how unfair it may have been.
Maslow viewed all of the creative processes as being something related to self-realization and self-actualization.
Lie you, I developed a fascination for literature, and dabbled in writing as a teen, but the craft remained fallow. A creative writing class in college almost killed the desire to write at all for awhile, but I escaped with a literature minor as I slowly learned to develop my talents, only t realize I had nothing to write about that moved within me….the quickening, so to speak.
I spent several decades gathering experiences, and it seemed like the entire time, I felt like it was background material for…something…???
The point to this over-long diatribe is that you recognized the desire to be a writer; to be able to legitimately call yourself a writer and recognized that there was something missing…something incomplete within you unless you followed your calling.
As for euphoria…well, I have often said that I write for the same reason an alcoholic drinks…
I have always enjoyed finding your posts, but his one touched me.
Published or not, giving voice to the gentle beast within you because you are compelled to create makes you a writer because it is your nature; art and artist become one.
Thank you for posting this. It gave me pause and helped jump-start my morning.
Good morning Chazz. Thank you so much for that wonderful comment. I always think of this quote – “There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed.” – Ernest Hemingway
Sometimes the blood is a mere trickle and sometimes a hemorrhage, but bleeding your soul into a story is wonderful feeling. Enjoy your day.
So true. And thank you. Posts like yours help remind me we are not alone.
Thank you so much for this blog Sue. This along with the Ernest Hemingway quote are prompting me to start writing again; am not even sure just when or why I stopped. I just feel that it’s never too late to begin again.
Anticipating your book; I will be one of the many people first in line buy that!!
Thanks Cathy. I really appreciate that. I hope you do get back into writing…it really consumes me sometimes. What type of things do you write?
Writing for me feels like feast or famine…either I write forever or I’ll put my journal down or temporarily quit my blog and won’t touch it for months on end. Then that itch comes back and there’s a need to scratch. It’s crazy how it comes and goes and I never know how long it’ll stay or when it’ll come back. As for writer, oddly enough I’ve had an easier time with calling myself a writer (as that’s my job) than reporter or journalist. I’ve read a few articles on that topic also. I find that it seems like certain expectations or ideas of what it means to be a something (i.e. writer, reporter, etc.) keeps us from accepting that…that is who we are. Any writing done makes a person a writer…whether it’s good or not….because those early pieces get us to where we are or are going. I’m looking forward to the book also. 🙂 lovely writing as always.
Thank you so much, Stormy. I really appreciate that.