love, read, write

To write without a true purpose is to not write at all.

I view myself as an introvert because I feel more comfortable when I'm alone. I used to be ashamed of this fact, but I realize now that this is foolish. Statistically speaking, the percentage of introverts in this world is at around 50%. I am not alone. It embarrasses me that I was once ashamed of my temperament, always wishing to be the extrovert. Perhaps I still am, internally. It certainly seems easier to be able to speak to others with ease. But introversion is no sin; there are many merits to being an introvert. Sometimes it's worth sitting back and listening and observing. And sometimes it takes a great deal of introversion in order to conjure a world-changing idea or to finally come to terms with an unknown concept.

Writing is an extension of my introversion. It is a sort of remedy, a making-up of, a medium through which I, introverted, can be loud and extroverted. It creates an empty room for me where I can hash out my ideas, express them clearly, and speak them with no ear-splitting worries echoing in my head about "what if I say this wrong" or "what if I say that wrong." I can put time into my thoughts and simply publish them when they are ready. To me, this is incredibly empowering.

My timeline with writing stretches over a long period of time. My first stories were in first grade, misspelled mishaps about librarians and butterflies of some sort. It's hard for me to understand now because I am no longer in the infinitely creative mindset of a first grader, scribbling words that extend beyond the scope of simple English.

As is the characteristic of most writers, I was a reader. First, second, third, fourth grade and onwards, I was constantly reading. My mother complained to her friends that I read "too much." They'd scoff or secretly despise her for this (for she noted it to me later on), but they had no idea what my mother meant by "too much." I'd be reading under the covers late at night (which is what led to my first prescription glasses). I'd be reading in the car. I'd be reading during dinner time, even though there was a strict "no books at the dinner table" policy. Reading was where I first learned to love literature. Reading was what first put the seed in me: what if I could create stories, too?

So, from unclear butterfly librarian stories began my timidly written chapter books.

I started with chapter books. Short stories, then, were foreign. After all, a seven or eight year old was more likely to read books such as Magic Tree House or Horrible Harry, which weren't exactly your usual Raymond Carver. I wrote for discovery, for creation. It baffles me that, even at such a young age, I had this thirst for creation. I wanted to write stories as interesting and funny as Horrible Harry, as enticing and magical as the Magic Tree House series, probably my favorite chapter book series of my early childhood.

In third grade, I wrote a chapter book called "The Twenty Dollar Lie." It was written into a yellow notepad which my father had bought from Staples (in a set of six). It was about a boy who borrowed his friend's money to pay for a vase he had accidentally broken. But he had lied to his friend to get the money. Their friendship became tangled in a mess afterwards, but in the end, mistakes were resolved and the main character befriended the lonely new kid at school. (It's quite a wild ride.)

Writing has always been a friend of mine. I remember in fifth or sixth grade, I tried to start a group blog which would create writing prompts and receive "submissions" from my peers, who at that time, also were dabbling in the field of writing. It was called something like "yourstoryhere". I would post a prompt weekly. It did not last long, for dedication and participation were two lofty things to ask of measly fifth graders.

It was then that I began this blog. If you go into the earlier posts, I was reading and writing, just as I am now. Anyway, I continued to write, churning out stories after stories. Most were unfinished. Emsred, Natalie, Survivors, to name a few. Ideas were never-ending; it was the patience to finish these "novels" that burdened me. I was still writing fantasy stories, trying to recreate the excitement that I read in the novels that I read.

And then came the summer of 2014, when I attended a writing course at a university in New York. It was a three week course but somehow, in those three weeks, my perspective of writing changed drastically. I did not realize it then, but in retrospect, I see that without those three weeks, I probably would be in a completely different place and position now. This was when I truly matured in my writing.

My writing itself, unfortunately, is still in its fetal stages, crying and kicking, yearning for attention, not yet quite independent. There is still a long way to go, yet I am now more assured about my philosophy of writing.

In those three weeks, I was exposed to a variety of different types of writing. I met avant-garde writing, such as the poetry of Tao Lin. I read the enigmatic short stories of Raymond Carver. I read Langston Hughes, I read Emily Dickinson, I read Quentin Tarantino's Pulp Fiction script, I read dictionary definitions, I read one-sentence stories. The scope of possibilities, suddenly, widened drastically. It suddenly struck me that writing wasn't just writing for fun, or writing for selling, or even just writing to amuse people. I no longer had the obligation to write compelling chapter books like those of Margaret Peterson Haddix, one of my favorite fantasy/sci fi authors. I could write wildly. I could write art.

There it was. There was my discovery--writing was art. Writing is art. I've always known, but I didn't really know until 2014.

2014 was a year ago.

Now, my philosophy of writing is much clearer. I can't say it's crystal clear because knowing exactly what I want out of writing at the age of seventeen is probably something nearly impossible. Foolish to claim. But there is no denying that after a year of accumulated contemplation, my idea of writing is much more solid than it was a year ago.

So there. I return to the sentence which I wrote in italics, as if it were a quote of some sort. It's not a quote. It's my own philosophy of writing. To write without purpose is to not write at all.

Because writing isn't just words on paper. Writing is a responsibility. When you write, you write with a purpose. An audience. There are times when the audience member is just that--a member. A sole listener. Sometimes that sole listener is you. Other times, it's an entire crowd: the general public. Or a muddled view of an uncertain number of people, like the Internet. But writing, as many authors will likely agree, guarantees an audience. Somewhere, someone out there has got to be reading your writing (even if it's just you yourself), because otherwise, there is really no point.

When we look back into history, we see that literature has had an unmistakable impact on the people, leaders, and events of our ancestors. Whether it was literature that changed our perception of the world (Plato, Newton, Freud) or literature that empathized with a people in pain (Hesse, Hemingway) or literature which brought forth revolutions or awakened people into action, literature has always been the moral conscience of humanity. I say it like this: if science is the father of humanity, bringing the people forward, then literature and art are the mother of humanity, reminding us why we are here, what is good, what is bad. She is the conscience of our species. Literature in history, and by extension, writing, is immensely powerful. It shifts populations, changes history.

The human urge to write exists because we itch to express, to empathize, to get a message across. And in doing so, we exercise an infinitely large and massive power. Writing is an act of persuasion, an act of manipulation, an act of empathy. I could write something so that others understand how I feel. I could write something so that others understand how a group of people feel. I could write to convince people to do something. I could write to make someone learn. To stand up, maybe. Or to sit down. It is quite evident that writing is like a tool--an incredibly important tool. And so, when writing, one must write wisely, for the tool should be used with care.

This is why I do not take writing lightly. Perhaps when writing for the self, the content of the writing is not of much importance of consequence. That much may be acceptable. However, once this writing goes into the hands of even one other person, it must have a clear purpose. Because immediately, you are exercising an act of power. You are implanting your thoughts in that person's head. And power should always be handled with care.

This is why writing for material gains, such as attention, money, or fame, bugs me to the core. It strips writing of its virtuous intent and quality and prostitutes it to the thoughtless side of people. To write without passion, or to write for money, or for lust, to me, is deceitful and dishonest. Writing without passion, particularly. If you do not feel in your bones the desire to write, then why write? Do you write to win prizes, to add awards to a resume? Writing should be triggered by a conviction--perhaps a conviction to express one's tangled feelings; or a conviction to persuade a group of people; maybe even a conviction to empathize with a people in pain. But never to write out of lust or greed for empty money or recognition. Material gains should be a side effect, not a goal. It offends me to no end.

"For a country to have a great writer is like having a second government. That is why no regime has ever loved great writers, only minor ones." This is what Alexander Solzhenitsyn said. I love this quote because it speaks to the power of writing. Writing can change a whole country of people at one time.

It is yet until I myself can also write with a clear purpose. It is yet until I can write with the strength to lift a human's weight. But for now, I will keep trying. I will continue to exercise my muscles and strengthen my rhetoric and my vocabulary and my skill so that one day, I too, can hopefully create a change, however small, in the massive world in which we live.