Why We Write: The List

I’ve been doing these Why We Write posts for a while now, so before I add more authors to the list (and I have plenty to add), I thought I should do a little combo of all of them. Call it an opportunity for readers to get caught up. Call it a craven attempt at added hits and blog traffic. Call it anything.

So, here we go! Below are the quotes and links to my inane little comments on them:

Don Delillo:

“Writing is a form of personal freedom. It frees us from the mass identity we see in the making all around us. In the end, writers will write not to be outlaw heroes of some underculture but mainly to save themselves, to survive as individuals.”

Blaise Pascal:

“Everything that is written merely to please the author is worthless.”

Tom Wolfe:

I think I am starving for publication: I love to get published; it maddens me not to get published. I feel at times like getting every publisher in the world by the scruff of the neck, forcing his jaws open, and cramming the Mss down his throat — ‘God-damn you, here it is – I will and must be published.’

You know what it means – you’re a writer and you understand it. It’s not just ‘the satisfaction of being published.’ Great God! It’s the satisfaction of getting it out, or having that, so far as you’re concerned, gone through with it! That good or ill, for better or for worse, it’s over, done with, finished, out of your life forever and that, come what may, you can at least, as far as this thing is concerned, get the merciful damned easement of oblivion and forgetfulness.

John Updike:

“I want to write books that unlock the traffic jam in everybody’s head.”

Joseph Heller:

“Every writer I know has trouble writing.”

Ray Bradbury:

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”

E.B. White:

“All writing is both a mask and an unveiling.”

George Orwell:

“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with 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.”

Graham Greene:

“Writing is a form of therapy; sometimes I wonder how all those who do not write, compose or paint can manage to escape the madness, melancholia, the panic and fear which is inherent in a human situation.”

There you go folks! Check out all the links for author photos and comments. And as I said earlier, I’ll keep adding to this list. It’s inspiring to me, so hopefully it is to some of you as well.

C.T.

Related articles

• Active Writing cultivates new Material. (wordsmithsix.wordpress.com)
• Write What You Know (cultofajracewood.wordpress.com)
• Raising a Writer (nhwn.wordpress.com)
• dreams and reality (unremarkableman.wordpress.com)

Why We Write: Ray Bradbury

“You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you.”  –Ray Bradbury

Ray Bradbury (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I don’t think Bradbury is referencing the “drown your sorrows” kind of drunkenness, but more the escape that total immersion in one’s fabricated world can provide. And it is appealing. Turn on cable news or click over to Drudge or Google News, and you’ll see that things get dark fast in our world. Reality is tough to take–and this is coming from a middle class American, for whom life isn’t usually too bad. (Though I have taken plenty of hits.)

So while Graham Greene wrote about writing as therapeutic, And Orwell wrote of it as a compulsion, Bradbury’s quote speaks—at least to me—of writing as a refuge.

No, we cannot escape our lives, and no, we can’t change human nature (no matter how many optimists say we can). So pain and suffering will always exist. But in the creative act, one has an opportunity for a respite, brief though it may be. The fictional world you create is your own, and it allows you a measure of freedom that reality so often does not.

I’ve always wondered this about science fiction. It seems like it’s a perfect genre with which one can safely navigate the world’s horrors. Fears of genocide? Create a fictional dystopia in which you can dissect your fear. Apprehensive about radical advances in technology? Write about a race of killer robots. You’ll scare yourself without having to turn on the television. But you’ll do it from the relative safety of your home office.

I’m guessing that this is one of the allures of dystopian literature as well. I think Orwell or Burgess or Huxley might agree. Condemn fascism, communism, environmental degradation, rampant drug use, look out your window to see how the world really is, and then retreat back into another world—a fake one, yes, and a dark one, quite likely—where at least you’re in charge of the ending.

The problem? Reality still can destroy you, whether you’re drunk on writing or not. Sorry Ray. But I think I get your point.

C.T.

Related articles

• Ray Bradbury on Characters (ctwesting.com)
• An Evening w/ Ray Bradbury (2001) (sonicalkaline.wordpress.com)
• The October Country by Ray Bradbury (silverbirchpress.wordpress.com)

Why We Write: George Orwell

“Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout with 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

George Orwell Category:Nineteen Eighty Four (Photo credit: Wikipedia)

I happened upon an interesting article titled The Medical Problems of 4 Great Writers, which is just a snippet from author John J. Ross’ book Shakespeare’s Tremor and Orwell’s Cough: The Medical Lives of Great Writers. (Great title, by the way.) In his article, Ross references the same quote that I have above, one taken from Orwell’s great essay Why I Write. Ross’ point is that Orwell was somewhat literal, and not just metaphorical, in his complaint. His lifelong struggle with pulmonary issues, and namely tuberculosis, seeped into his works more than most would guess.

So Orwell knew something about long bouts with painful illnesses, yet still he wrote, even though his writing—and the traveling lifestyle that went along with it—likely helped shorten his life. (Chain smoking didn’t help either, I’m sure.)  But talking of being “driven on by some demon” indicates something else as well.  This is writing as compulsion, as something that must be done or the world, your world, won’t work.

In the end, the journalist, essayist, and novelist Orwell saw no other way to live his life. He was compelled to write (and thankfully for us, he was quite good at it). Such a compulsion required sacrifice, and for Orwell, it was a sacrifice of health and comfort: He traveled extensively, was often sick, and even took a bullet in the neck while in Spain.

So I suppose mine is a question of sacrifice. What are you willing to sacrifice for your writing? Material comfort? The security of a stable though unfulfilling job? Relationships? It’s an important question to ponder for those of us hoping that our writing will one day take off and open up new worlds of success to us.

Me? I will struggle with my writing; I’ll even suffer. But there are things—or people, namely my wife and children—that will always take precedence. I love to write, and it is more than just a hobby for me. Still, I understand that there are many things that come before it. I’d die for faith and family, but not for my writing.

So what about everyone else? What are you willing to do for your writing? What aren’t you willing to do? As always, I’d love to hear your comments.

C.T.

Related articles

• Why George Orwell is as relevant today as ever | Geoffrey Wheatcroft (guardian.co.uk)
• I Write Like… (scholarlyscribe.wordpress.com)