Thread: Why I Write

I joined this forum in February of 2011. I actually thought that it might provide me with a means to become a successful writer. I thought that maybe I would write something compelling, and someone would see it. I thought that I would have publishers contacting me to make offers to publish my work. Ha ha ha -- I guess you can call me the eternal optimist.

I received a response to my last post (A Ton of Bricks) that really made me think. The response stated, “It can be so isolating when a person is unable to express themselves, especially at a time when they need to be heard and understood. Sometimes it is a very lonely journey” (By the way – thanks for that “Nerot.”). Although I had hoped to be recognized as a successful writer, I realized that I only write well when I empty my soul. Writing for fame, and glory doesn’t inspire the way that life does.

I have been a complicated individual. My wife I am sure, who understands me better than anyone, must sometime wonder what is going on in my head. I tend to keep a lot of things to myself; that must be difficult for her. I am for the most part a loner. I do not mean to say that I don’t have friends. I do. I, however, tend to keep them at an arm’s length away.

I seem to end up with a lot of friends that are probably, by most, considered ‘outsiders’. The type of people I am talking about are those whom have a small quirk, or two which causes others to shy-away. I know that I have, myself, questioned getting too close to individuals because some characteristic that may seem a little different than the norm. I try to look past it to see what else is there. I have some very good friends today because of that; friends that are very loyal – the kind that would do almost anything for me even though I don’t let them in completely.

I want people to understand that the reason I tend to be somewhat of a loner is not a reflection on them. It is a window into who I am. I live life, I would guess, unlike most. I need to be in control of taking in life. That does not mean I am a control freak. However, if I had to choose between walking through the woods, and going to hangout with a bunch of friends I more often than not would choose nature. I am sure that when I do show up there are those who would like to say, “So what do we owe the honor?”

Choosing nature is something I do often. When I was a young boy, growing up in Ypsilanti, Michigan, I would often spend the day in an empty lot at the end of our street. The grass was tall and the trees grew unattended as nature intended them to. I would sit, for what seemed like hours, or until lunchtime, and watch grasshoppers and butterflies.

When I moved to Northern Michigan, in 1991, I knew I was where I was supposed to be. The cool air on my face made me feel alive, and I didn’t have to look very far to find grasshoppers or butterflies. We built our dream home, ourselves, out of logs we purchased from a local Amish sawmill. I remember telling my wife several times, during the first year, that I never want to take for granted how lucky I am to be able to live in a place like this. That is something that is easy to forget if you allow yourself to. You can start to become complacent. You can start to look at life as “what can I take from it” opposed to being thankful for what it gives you. I know that I have done that.

This morning I walked out behind my house, and looked around. It was a gray-damp-October morning. The air, as always, smelled fresh. The leaves on the ground were wet from last night’s drizzle, and the only sound I could hear was that of the October wind blowing the remaining leaves from the trees. There were no grasshoppers, or butterflies in sight, but I smiled anyway.

This is “now” why I write. If, by chance, you don’t understand my point, you probably never will. That’s okay. I just want my friends and family to understand that these are my thoughts; this is who I am; this is my soul.

Nothing inspires me so much as nature. In fact, if I feel the need to write but find nothing forthcoming, I head for the garden bench. Once I begin to take in the beauty of the flowers and the trees I have no difficulty getting to the place where I can pour out my soul on to the page. It is magic and such a blessing.

I love to read what you write about Michigan. I can see it in my mind's eye and it makes me smile having spent a lot of time in northern Wisconsin. Nothing brought me more peace than a walk through the woods amongst the Birch trees. (Didn't care much for the mosquitos and ticks though!) My father and I would spend hours out on the lakes fishing for Bluegills and Northern Pike. So many wonderful memories. So thank you for reminding me of those times.

I write for myself. It is cathartic and healing for me. If what I write is enjoyed by someone else it is an added blessing but not necessarily the goal.

You are an excellent writer. I hope that you continue to write and share what you have written for all of us to read.

b'shalom, (in peace)
Nerot

Back here in non-fiction I think you will find several of the older writers understand and equate with the reasoning for why you write.

I suspect that for many of us part of the routine of the day is to dial up WFC in order to check what's going on. This is a world wide club. A few of us go even further and put finger to keyboard and make a point of writing a few words every day. Nothing improves the writing better than practice.
Also, as Nerot has said, writing is cathartic.

You mentioned why you joined WFC - as a matter of interest had you found previously any other outlet for your writing before you discovered us?
May I suggest that you 'feel' for a genre of writing which might become your subject.

Man in the Cupboard
Your article on the subject of why you write and it set my mind to work. This is an attempt to encourage you and at the same time a way to clear my
own mind about what it is about WFC which is so ‘special‘.

You first wrote a very poignant piece about a depressing subject, namely prostate cancer. It read well and will have touched many an ageing man who has started to wet his knickers. You then wrote a second piece as to why you write. At that point I started to think of the reasons why some of us, who have little chance of ever being published, do write.

Not all men will suffer from cancer, although some will develop conditions caused by an ageing prostate. The very word ‘prostate’ is one to send a shiver down many a man’s spine. You had obviously taken time to write and post the article and in doing so, it brought you into view on the Forum as a writer. You received several well deserved plaudits from members. Later I asked myself whether your plaudits were brought about by the subject matter or the way in which you had presented the subject as a stand alone article. For any writer who chooses to tug on the heart strings that is an important question. Is it the subject or the writing?

Your second piece was filled with ‘I’s. Your description of nature and Michigan was good but you did not this time tug on my heart strings. I understood what you were saying but I started to worry lest, in your words, you were showing signs of clinical depression. If you do ever visit with a psychologist you will notice they sit you down in a chair and get you talking. The therapist says nothing whereas you, who is paying the bill, are prompted to empty your mind. Some take notes. It is all harmless stuff and, if done well, kicks off in the patient a process of self healing. Any treatment of this type is better than taking the pills. I find that writing does something similar and that is why I use the word cathartic. Through the keyboard I can empty my mind and spend part of my day in a constructive manner and as a result there are enough articles in the laptop to make up a dozen books. Anyway it is better for me than watching the TV.

The only problem with writing to an internet forum is that sooner or later, some other member is going to write something critical. For any young person, prostate cancer will not be the ‘must read’ topic of the month. So perhaps you should take the future likelihood of criticism on board. Which is precisely why I thought to encourage you to think of writing on another subject because in your first article the words read easily and they portray sensitively your predicament. You can write. What will probably upset you is the lack of comment and fall off of viewers as your article slips down the list of threads. But don’t get upset, it is the nature of the beast.

WFC is but one of the forums addressed at writers. For me it is the most appealing example since there is within the membership a cluster of authors with whom even I, an ageing, bearded, bespeckled, amateur writer, way beyond his prime can associate. Neither is there any bullying by the moderators. On this forum the scope is there for any writer to post an article merely with the view to having one’s work read. Nothing is more depressing for any author than to feel his work is of no interest to anyone. Sadly, not even members of my own family read my scribbles.

WFC offers a notice board upon which articles on most subjects can be pinned. The author has to be a little careful about sex and one or two other touchy subjects and of course there is also the sensitivity of other writers to watch out for. However there is no need to be rude or aggressive toward one’s fellow literary geniuses (or is it geniui?)

I hope you have deduced from this long winded, sensitively worded, introductory critique that you are amongst friends. I too have an enlarged prostate and I once undertook a course of treatment with a pyscho because I kept falling off my horse. Which led directly to my finding an internet forum, which keeps me sane. - I think.

Welcome.
Dv

Divus,

I found your response very interesting. I was encouraged to learn that there are others that think much as I do. I understand, completely, your point. I even considered the point as to whether people would be impressed with my writing or touched by my predicament. That is the very reason I wrote the second post about why I write.

I, personally, have come to the conclusion that subject matter is what makes a good story. The way a person can describe it makes it interesting. The reality of it makes it powerful. However, I am well aware of how much an amateur I am, so I expect criticism – well deserved.

I never considered for one second that I would even have a desire to write. I have been a late bloomer in a lot of aspects of my life; as in the case of earning a computer information systems degree. I was married and had a child at the age of 19, so I had to provide for a family at a very early age. I never had time to think about much other than feeding my family.

When I went back to school at the age of 41 it was because I had to reinvent myself after losing my job; that, along with the changing landscape of the job market. While attending school I was required to take a writing class. My instructor was a former columnist for one of Michigan’s major newspapers. We were required to write about the attack on the World Trade Center. I tend to be a nonconventional guy, so I decided to look at it a little differently. I talked very little about the actual event, and talked about growing up the son of a firefighter. I brought it all together at the end by comparing my hero (my father) to the heroes that died that day.

My instructor read my paper to the class, and afterwards told me in private, that he felt one day the world would read my writing. I was a little bothered by his comment (believe it or not). No one had ever told me that I could write, and he says this while I am trying to earn a degree in another field. I just shrugged off his comment, and moved on.

I earned my degree and found a job. Then my father was stricken with cancer. We were told he had two years to live. After the first year, I saw big change in him, so I felt compelled to write about it. Again, I took a nonconventional look at the situation. Dad was an avid fisherman. He would have loved to have spent his entire life fishing. I decided that I needed to write something that described to the world the kind of man he is, and was. I wrote a short story about a fishing trip he took me on when I was a young boy. I put it to the side, and forgot about it.

Just before dad died I had a heart to heart talk with him. I told him about the story, and mentioned that I wanted to read it at his memorial service. He gave me his blessing, but never asked about the story.

After dad passed, I had the opportunity to read it at his service. It was much harder than I ever expected, but I got through it. After the service a lady, whom I had never met, approached me, and said, “I wanted you to know that I am a retired English teacher. I taught for thirty-five years, and that is some of the best writing I have ever heard in my life.” I was floored. This was only meant as my attempt to honor my father. Why are people telling me stuff like this? I again moved on.

January, of this year, I had surgery for my prostate problem, and I was stuck at home for six-weeks, so I decided to join the writing forum. Sorry about the long-winded response, but I felt like I needed to explain in order to respond to something else you said. You are very correct about people being critical of what is sometimes posted. I have been offended at times. I understand how things work. This is not just an outlet to have people read your words, but also a means to critique your writing. I have come to the conclusion that maybe I am not a great writer, but I do have stories to tell. If I don’t use proper grammar, or am a little clumsy with how my stories flow, I hope people can forgive me. All I can do is tell the story the best I can, and hope people get something out of it.

I understand the competitiveness in any field of endeavor. My initial entry into this forum may have been a little coated with the sheen of that competitive blood that flows within my veins. However, I think very little about it now. I know that my words, considering my plight, may seem at times depressing; that’s because it is. I still feel that it is my duty to use, what I have been told is a talent that I have, to document my journey, and while doing so create a picture of the mindset of one who is facing what I am facing.

I will continue to write because it is “cathartic,” if no one wants to respond that’s okay, if someone chooses to be critical of my grammar that is okay too. My hope is that I can provide insight, to the fact that priorities easily get out of balance during our lives. The secret is finding them soon enough, and putting them back on the right path.

ClosetWriter (Dave)

I even considered the point as to whether people would be impressed with my writing or touched by my predicament.

I am both impressed by your writing AND touched by your predicament.

I know that my words, considering my plight, may seem at times depressing; that’s because it is. I still feel that it is my duty to use, what I have been told is a talent that I have, to document my journey, and while doing so create a picture of the mindset of one who is facing what I am facing.

I believe, as I think you do as well, that the best writing comes from personal experience. It may be hard for some people to relate to your experience but it is the truth of your life right now. I think it is important to write about these kinds of things, not just for the writer but the reader as well.

I look forward to reading more of what you write.

nerot

Its interesting to read as I also joined this forum for the same reason.
I am a perfect beginner at writing, just been doing this for a year and yet I love it.
I'd rather be alone home that go out with people I half consider as friends.
For now though, I just read a lot from the forum, too shy to post any of my work

I felt the same way for many years (the very reason I go by ClosetWriter). I never let anyone read what I had written -- not even my wife. I was a tough guy, and didn't want anyone to see that I had a soft side. Now, I wish that I had started sharing my words years ago. It changed me. Better late than never.

Go ahead and go for it. Trust me; you will be glad you did.

ClosetWriter (Dave)

I love what you wrote here. If it is genuine it is always beautiful. I can always tell when a writer is writing for themselves, and even if it is not the "best" work i have ever read, if i can feel raw emotion and vulnerability emanating off of the page, i will value it.

Keep doing it for you.

Sam

Originally Posted by ClosetWriter

I felt the same way for many years (the very reason I go by ClosetWriter). I never let anyone read what I had written -- not even my wife. I was a tough guy, and didn't want anyone to see that I had a soft side. Now, I wish that I had started sharing my words years ago. It changed me. Better late than never.

I have always struggled with this tough guy exterior that society teaches guys to have. One person I will write about is a guy named Max. He is the toughest biker guy you'll ever meet. Even tough biker guys went out of their way to avoid him. Against his will, he was paired with me as senior people were given new guys to train. He didn't talk to me any more than he had to. One day, I saw that something was clearly bothering him, and his discomfort made him lash out at my inexperience even more. Finally, he broke down. His daughter had a terminal condition and she was going under a difficult surgery that day. He shared feelings that he couldn't share with anyone else in the world because of his tough exterior. After that, he went back to his usual self, riding me for stupid stuff, but I would give it right back to him and he would crack a smile.

I feel sorry for those people, but I'm glad I was there for him.

Getting back to the story, I agree baring your soul is good therapy. Too often the outside world puts us in situations we can't control, but we can always crawl up inside our thoughts and revel in the moment as to who we are, appreciating everything we have gone through to get this far in life.

Sometimes I write to sort things out. Like as a teenager, how I was too shy to kiss this girl when I had the chance, when she meant everything in the world to me, and how different my life would be had I taken that chance. One little act, one little decision, or one little move done differently could completely change who you are today. It would be fascinating to see all the alternate paths our lives could have taken if we did just one thing differently along the way.

JRB

I found this very interesting. People sometimes focus on what is written, but they forget that the reason why something has been written can be as fascinating as the original writing.

The works I'm most proud of are the ones I wrote from sudden inspiration or a movement of the soul.