| Mar232008 | Write What You Know |
On and off for the past six months, I’ve been tossing about the idea of peeling back the layers of abstraction, to really write what I know. I hadn’t come across the “write what you know” dictum until Studds explained it to me one day during the first year of university. I saw it as unnecessary constraint. I’ll write whatever the hell I want. It was appropriate for me to think this because at least I was writing something. I didn’t need eyes on me, I needed the door closed and I needed an outlet in front of me to turn bottled-up thoughts into clumsy, tangible words.
These days I stick to writing what I know. Because it suits my whims, because I get more mileage out of my imagination. I have less to work with but it goes further and it helps me break out of generalizations and avoid painting ideal scenarios. For example, I may be hit with the idea of writing a love story. Five minutes in and I’m already rolling my eyes. A far more interesting story is about a guy who wants to write a love story and re-write his own life. Or maybe a story about a girl who scoffs at all the sad little authors tapping away at their doomed romance novels. Each time I change the setting, I get a little closer to my real motivations.
And so, dear Internet, I’m confused. I don’t know what I’m doing right now. This morning I wanted to blog about how awesome it is to do laundry whilst topless. I figured my (predominantly female) audience would appreciate me wearing only a pair of designer jeans whilst I folded things and attached other things to coat hangers. Even if they don’t appreciate it, I do. And I’m sure Google does too. Maybe I’m spending too much time looking at Abercrombie & Fitch advertisements?
Later this morning, television added to the confusion. I was sitting there (now with a shirt), flipping between an episode of Horsepower and the Project Runway finale. I could not decide between watching the fuel system upgrade on a Camaro so that it would handle the boost more effectively and Jillian freaking out about her poor choice of models and Christian is all, “whatever, because its her own fault.” I wish my TV had picture-in-picture.
What I’m really wondering about is this love/hate relationship I have with my social life. There’s a lot of self-sabotage involved, more than I’d care to admit. On some level, I’m really looking for the same security I had back in Melbourne but I don’t think that’s going to arrive anytime soon so I really do need to just suck it up. On the upside, I do believe I’ve become a more friendly guy since coming to Seattle. Being without as large a safety net has made things more interesting and has been humbling in ways.
I look at my life and I try to figure out why I do the things I do. Sometimes, I can work it out. Sometimes, I can’t. And the rest of the time, I don’t want to know the answer or I already know the answer but I don’t want to admit it. If it’s something I’m not afraid to face then it’s something that is fair game for the “write what you know” category, I’m ready to take steps towards untwisting some of my internal logic.
And things that I am afraid of? I think I need the layer of abstraction to shield me. I need to wrap things in fiction and metaphor until it’s unrecognizable to my sense of fear and I can allow my subconscious to ghostwrite.
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