I read a very interesting essay on the topic of authorship and the often elusive concepts of fame and fortune that seems to accompany many would-be authors. I felt inclined to share this free download with the rest of my writing community of friends, peers and colleagues. Please take a moment to read through it. Yes, its some 72 pages long but highly informative or at the very least, thought-provoking.
Many people ask me what it's like being an author. I often find myself bragging about how wonderful it is to create something from pure imagination, labor over the details to make it "perfect"--or at least as perfect as we can within the limitations of our own abilities, and then share it with the world, sending it down the literal river into the unknown depths and waves of criticism, critique and scrutiny. Oh, what joy! No, it isn't all bad no more than it is all good. To be quite honest, "being" a writer or novelist means simply that--you are just a writer or novelist. We aren't problem solvers or magicians, mysterious archetypes or even holders of the keys to secret doorways for truth. Being a fiction author by trade, I would say we are better liars than we are advocates for truth. Why? Well, because we not only create little worlds within our minds, but labor to make them so real on paper, that you (as the reader) can't help but wonder at the amazement of the fine line in the sand where fiction and reality merge to form one literal picture.
We are heralds, and storytellers, playwrights and scribes. We are studied, yes, in almost every aspect of life--from religions and science, to histories and mythological folklore. We appreciate silence and beg for crowds to avoid the solidarity of our own imagination. We can't stand it when others are as 'learned' as us but we get sick of being around other writers--at least for extended periods at a time--which usually adds up to about one three-day literary conference every half year. We discuss things which are boring to most people and then use them to our advantage in stories later, which usually leads to some of the same people calling us ingenious for being so creative and insightful. We are usually overly critical of everything around us, well, because we have to learn to decipher every detail of everything we do in this world, to better serve an audience who can't see our the activities of our imagination, only read our thoughts. We are easily frustrated--especially when writing--because as hard as it is to birth the story from the depths of our imagination, it is that much harder to find simple words like "and" and "the" when proofing our own sentences. When we finally finish a work we are so eager to share it with the world, you might think we actually "gave birth to a new story." Then, not but moments after we share it with the world, we want to take it all back. Why? Because we hate it!
Many people ask me what it's like being an author. I often find myself bragging about how wonderful it is to create something from pure imagination, labor over the details to make it "perfect"--or at least as perfect as we can within the limitations of our own abilities, and then share it with the world, sending it down the literal river into the unknown depths and waves of criticism, critique and scrutiny. Oh, what joy! No, it isn't all bad no more than it is all good. To be quite honest, "being" a writer or novelist means simply that--you are just a writer or novelist. We aren't problem solvers or magicians, mysterious archetypes or even holders of the keys to secret doorways for truth. Being a fiction author by trade, I would say we are better liars than we are advocates for truth. Why? Well, because we not only create little worlds within our minds, but labor to make them so real on paper, that you (as the reader) can't help but wonder at the amazement of the fine line in the sand where fiction and reality merge to form one literal picture.
We are heralds, and storytellers, playwrights and scribes. We are studied, yes, in almost every aspect of life--from religions and science, to histories and mythological folklore. We appreciate silence and beg for crowds to avoid the solidarity of our own imagination. We can't stand it when others are as 'learned' as us but we get sick of being around other writers--at least for extended periods at a time--which usually adds up to about one three-day literary conference every half year. We discuss things which are boring to most people and then use them to our advantage in stories later, which usually leads to some of the same people calling us ingenious for being so creative and insightful. We are usually overly critical of everything around us, well, because we have to learn to decipher every detail of everything we do in this world, to better serve an audience who can't see our the activities of our imagination, only read our thoughts. We are easily frustrated--especially when writing--because as hard as it is to birth the story from the depths of our imagination, it is that much harder to find simple words like "and" and "the" when proofing our own sentences. When we finally finish a work we are so eager to share it with the world, you might think we actually "gave birth to a new story." Then, not but moments after we share it with the world, we want to take it all back. Why? Because we hate it!
This is my advice for those who wish to write and please, do not be discouraged, but yet be aware as awareness is enlightenment and enlightenment is the first step on the path towards creative magic and spiteful resent for what you have created.
"Write because its in you...write because you were born to...write because you owe it to the soul of humanity to share your creative soul. Don't do it for the money, but if the money should come, remember from whence you came: the impoverished world of dreams, aspirations and ambition that truly identified with the impoverished world."
"Write because its in you...write because you were born to...write because you owe it to the soul of humanity to share your creative soul. Don't do it for the money, but if the money should come, remember from whence you came: the impoverished world of dreams, aspirations and ambition that truly identified with the impoverished world."
To read Mr. Michael Allen's essay titlted: "On the survival of rats in the slush pile" which helped prompt this particular blog--which I hate by the way--please follow this URL.
~Bobby OzunaInspire. Educate. Mentor
1 comment:
i write so that people can hear my messages here is my book..."Freedom at a Cost"
F I R S T
R E A L I Z E
E V E R Y O N E
E V E N T U A L L Y
D I E S
O F T E N
M I S L O O K E D
F R E E D O M
R I G H T S
E Q U A L I T Y
E V E R Y T H I N G
D E P E N D S
O N
M O N E Y
F R I E N D S
R E A L I T I V E S
E V E R Y O N E
E L S E
D E P R E S S E D
O V E R
M E M O R I E S
F I R S T
R E S P O N c e
E M E R G E N C Y
E M P L O Y E E S
D I E D
O V E R
M O N E Y
FRUSTRATION
R E S E N T M EN T
E NC O M P A SSES
E V E R Y B O D Y
D I S H E A R T I N I N G
O U R
M I L I T A R Y
F I N D
R E M E D I E S
E R A S E
E M O T I O N S
D I V I D E
O U R
M O N E Y
F O R
R E L I G I O N S TO
E X I S T
E V E R Y B O D Y
D E V E L O P E S
O W N
M I N D S E T
F I N D
R E A S O N S
E N D U R E
E D U C A T I O N
D E C I D E
O T H E R W I S E
M I S S O U T
F L A G S
R A I S E D
E V E R Y D A Y
E V E R Y B O D Y
D I S P L A Y I N G
O U R
M A N H U N T S
F O R E I G N E R S
R E L O C A T E
E V E R Y D A Y
E A C H
D R I V E N BY
O P P U R T U N I T Y
M O N E Y
F A I T H L E S S
R E I G N
E N A B L E S
E L U S I V E
D I P L O M A C Y
O C C A S I O N A L
M I S C O N D U C T
F A C I S M
R A C I S M
E T H I C A L
E R A D I C A T I O N
D E F I N A T E L Y
O P P R E S S E S
M A N
F O R
R I G H T E O U S
E X I S T A N C E
E D U C A T I O N
D A I L Y
O R I G I N A T E S
M A T U R I T Y
F A N T A S Y
R E A L I T Y
E A R T H Q U A K E S
E R O S I O N
D E S T R O Y I N G
O U T E R S P A C E
M O T H E R - E A R T H
F R E E D O M
R I D I C U L O U S
E A R N
E A C H
D O L L A R
O N
M I N I M U M – W A G E
F I G H T I N G
R E S U M E S
E A C H &
E V E R Y
D A Y
O V E R
M O N E Y
F A L S E
R E P O R T S
E A C H
E X A M P L E S OF
D I S T U R B I N G L Y
O B V I O U S
M A L I C E
F A I L U R E
R E C T I F Y I N G
E M O T I O N S
E V E N T U A L L Y
D E S T R O Y S
O N E S
M I N D
F A T I G U E
R E S I S T A N C E
E X H A U S T I O N
E X A M P L E S
D A I L Y
O P E R A T I O N S OF OUR
M I L I T A R Y
F R I G H T E N E D
R E S E R V E S
E N G A G E D IN
E M E R G E N C Y
D E F E N S I V E
O F F E N S I V E
M O D E S
F A I L I N G TO
R E C O G N I Z E
E A C H &
E V E R Y
D E A T H
O F F E N D S
M O T H E R S
F A T H E R S
R E G R E T
E V E R
E N L I S T I N G
D E L I B E R A T E L Y INTO
O U R
M I L I T A R Y
F I G H T I N G S
R I G H T
E V E R Y O N E
E N L I S T
D E P L O Y
O U R
M I L I T A R Y
F I G H T I N G S
R I D I C U L O U S
E V E R Y O N E
E L S E
D E S P I S E S
O U R
M I L I T A R Y
F R A I L
R E M A I N S
E V E N T U A L L Y
E M E R G E
D E P E N D I N G
O N
M I N D - P O W E R
F O R C E D
R E T A L I A T I O N
E M P O W E R S
E N A B L E S
D E S T R U C T I O N
O F
M A S S E S
F O R T U N E S
R A N S A C K E D
E N T I R E
E M P I R E S
D E S T R O Y E D
O V E R
M O N E Y
F I N A N C I A L
R E C O R D S
E X P L O D I N G
E N R O N
D I S C O V E R Y
O N L Y
M I N O R
F A C E S
R E A R R A N G E D
E Y E S
E A R S
D I S F I G U R E M E N T
O P T I O N A L
M E M O R I E S
F I x e d
R a c e s
E v e r y
E l e c t I o n
D e p e n d s
O n
M o n e y
F u n c t I o n a l I t y
R e t u r n s
E v e n t u a l l y
E n d I n g
D a y s
O f
M I s e r y
F a l s I f I e d
R e p o r t s
E d I t e d
E x p l I n a t I o n
D o c u m e n t s
O v e r l o o k I n g
M i s c o nd u c t s
F I g h t
R e t a l I a t e
E n g a g e
E m b a t t l e
D e s t r o y
O v e r p o w e r
M a s s a c r e
F e a r
R e p l a c e s
E v e r y o n e
E l s e s
D o u b t
O f
M I s c o n d u c t
F o r c e d
R e s tr u c t u r i n g
E v e r y t I m e
E a c h
D I c t a t o r
O v e r t h r o w s
M a s s e s
F r a n t I c
R e la t I v e s
E n d u r I n g
E n d l e s s
D a y s
O f
M I s e r y
Post a Comment