I’ve been asked in recent weeks how on earth I get away with writing the way I do. You know — the questionable subject matter, the naughty language, the over-the-top aggressive tone.
My answer is this:
I get away with it because I write whatever pleases me. And no one is going to change that. Sometimes that means I’m going to offend people.
“The thing about being a writer is that
you just learn to live with your guilt.”
Someone politely suggested that I could get my point across without being so crude. That individual is right. And if I gave a shit about other opinions, I might take it under advisement.
The plain, bold truth of the matter is that I DON’T give a shit. If I offend you, why would you ON PURPOSE read my very potty-mouthed posts?
Honestly, that sounds like a *YOU* problem, not a *ME* problem. I write whatever strikes my fancy on any given day, and I seriously like it that way.
I respond by writing down everything that goes on during the bite.
When I finish, the idea lets go and runs off.”
I write the way I do because I like who I am.
Here’s the thing.
I’m not begging anyone to read my shit. Not my family, not my friends, not my neighbors, not my gas station attendant, not my hair-cutter-lady, not my mystical magical online friends, not my librarian, not my lawyer, not my doctor, not my daughter’s teacher. I just can’t be bothered.
Neither my parents nor my parents-in-law follow my blog. Nor does my sibling or my hubz’ sibling. Whatever — that’s certainly their prerogative and I don’t begrudge any of them for avoiding controversy. My writing isn’t everyone’s cup of tea.
Okay, maybe I begrudge a couple of them a LITTLE bit because I write some seriously funny shit sometimes that I know they’d enjoy if they weren’t so busy being either pissed at me or worried over my foul language.
But my point here is this: I’m not hiding my work, but nor am I beating anyone over the head with it. It’s there. If you like it, that’s awesome-sauce. If you don’t, well that’s fine too (although you’re probably boring — and I can say that because if you aren’t reading this you’ll never know I said so! nya-nya!).
“You own everything that happened to you.
Tell your stories.
If people wanted you to write warmly about them,
they should’ve behaved better.”
~ Anne Lamott
I write the way I do because it doesn’t matter in the long run.
Of all the people related to me, the only ones who have read my book thus far are my hubz, my son, and my mom. My book — completely unrelated to my blog in any way whatsoever — is fun, clean, speculative, dystopian, young adult science fiction. No reason not to read it, besides a personal reluctance to become entangled in my bloggy-blog.
I sort of get that, I supposed. But if you’re really worried about me mentioning you on my bloggy-blog, you should probably just avoid me altogether, not just my writing. Goof-ball.
One family member stated frankly that they will not be supporting my writing in any format whatsoever, because of my blog. I appreciate the honesty and wish that person well. It’s unfortunate, however, that this individual is incapable of separating different art forms.
It’s tantamount to saying, “I will not eat your cupcakes because I hate that you add eggs to your tuna salad.”
“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.”
I write the way I do because I’m good at it.
I see how cupcakes and tuna salad are both foods created in the kitchen, so it would appear to the uninitiated that anything I cook up will be crap. What this person fails to realize, however, is that I’m quite capable of taking the eggs — the bad language and tone — out of my tuna salad (my bloggy-blog), should I so desire.
And because of this oversight, they are really missing out on some brilliant cupcakes — my novel.
My egg-free tuna salad is now paying off, too. I can dress up as an adult and act mature on paper when necessary. I’ve written several “straight” (boring) pieces at this point, and am starting to get paid for it, too. And yes, they are quite aware that I’m a blogging nightmare. They also think I’m funny. So there’s that.
I write the way I do because I’m good at it.
Obviously there’s an audience for different cooking / writing styles.
My talent? I’m able to go whichever direction is necessary. I’m a blogger, a novelist, a content writer… and in college I was a journalist and editor.
I am a writing chameleon.
I can change shades like Mystique from X-Men, and you would have NO clue it was me. While I state my ideology upfront on my blog, I could as easily write intelligent opposing views.
I can write anything I put my mind to.
For my bloggy-blog, I’m the boss. The only necessary direction is the one I choose to take. And I like to cuss. That way, there’s no surprise later on down the road if I’ve presented myself as a goody-goody and then accidentally drop an F-bomb during an interview.
I write the way I do because others don’t.
Plus? Professionals who write “straight” (boring) have told me several times now that they wish they could cut loose the way I do. They have painted themselves into a corner.
The expectation for them is to remain upright and high class. I, however, have never made a claim to elegance — after all, my father told me when I was a teenager that my mother possesses more elegance in her pinky finger than I possess in my entire body — thus I have no one to worry about offending.
I write the way I do because I see things others miss.
My intense honesty has provided an interesting clarity I find lacking in others. I’m able to spot things from various perspectives. The people who enjoy my blog do so because of the oddity I bring to the table. I say what others are thinking — what they didn’t think to say. Sometimes what they didn’t know they COULD say.
[box type=”warning”] I am the burning finger of truth, pointing at the trash on the ground and lighting it on fire, encouraging others to pick it up and laugh with me.[/box]
If you want to burn with me, I’m glad to have you.
For any who aren’t into that sort of thing, please go do your good deeds elsewhere and leave us to our laughter. Don’t mind our pointing — and yes, to answer your question, we ARE most certainly pointing at YOU. Because you are funny, too, in all your boring goodness.
“Even in literature and art,
no man who bothers about originality will ever be original:
whereas if you simply try to tell the truth
(without caring twopence how often it has been told before)
you will, nine times out of ten,
become original without ever having noticed it.”
In short, I write the way I do because I write the way I do.