Writer's Dilemma

With the exception of some inspiration on Sunday, I've hit a major writer's block.

For quite some time, topics and experiences have stepped into my mind, wondering if I'll ever put them to words. The thing is, I can't. Part of me wants to write them, but once I sit down and think of what exactly I'm going to write, I draw up an emotional blank. It's as if there is no conviction behind the ideas.

What then? Could I write about something I feel nothing for? I think if I did, I'd feel like a hypocrite. 

Then... what responsibility do writers bear?

Everyone has learned that writers possess many purposes: explaining, persuading, informing, entertaining, and sometimes even relieving. However, I believe a writer's real purpose is truth. Whatever form it may take, be it memories, stories, or documentaries, the words must be true. I don't think people realize the effect their writing can have on others. Their words go out to millions of people, all with different perspectives and beliefs. A handful of letters can change all that. For better, or for worse.

So then, are writers just aloof creators, streaming words effortlessly, never taking thought as to what they are putting out there? Do they do it all for the sake of a story? Quite possibly. At least, I presume they would be more careful if they recognized the extent of their impact. And yet, there are writers who are very deliberate in what they create.

I'd like to think some of my favorite authors know what they're doing with their writing. Jane Austen, Orson Scott Card, J. K. Rowling, Charles Dickens, Ally Condie, C. S. Lewis, Brandon Sanderson, the list goes on! Still, I wonder if a writer can become desensitized after a long period of time. Much like some doctors grow so accustomed to the human body that they forget what a marvel it is. Could a writer really forget the power of writing? Thereby leading themselves to abuse it, or to become careless?

I guess the heart of the matter is the fine line of presenting evil without making evil attractive. For example, people swear. I understand that. Accordingly, a minor curse or two is acceptable, though not preferable. Nonetheless, must there be sexually crude things? Just the other day, I was immersed in a book by one of my most favorite authors, when I came upon a shockingly inappropriate passage. This guy is LDS! His previous books are clean, though not in a naive or innocent way. This recent stumble of his disappointed me greatly. Now, understand, I am familiar and pretty okay with flirtatious-bordering-on-innuendo type stuff. It's fairly normal in today's society. But, there are deeper and darker things out there, and it wounds me that great writers would stoop so low.

There is a careful balance to depicting things as they really are. One must be truthful in writing, lest they mislead the reader--both good and evil must receive their due--but at the same time, one needs to present the difficult side of the truth in such a way that readers do not find it attractive. Thus, if a writer depicts truth in that sense, then readers should not fear. In fact, in an essay of Orson Scott Card's on this very topic, he stated that those who cannot understand why there are unsavory things in a book "have no perspective."

This gave me pause. The author I mentioned earlier possesses an otherwise clean track record, so did I miss something? Was there a higher purpose to that seemingly crude passage? I still haven't decided yet, but Card's words struck me even so.

Through all this rambling, I've come to a conclusion about a writer's responsibility. Foremost, writers, no matter how or what they write, must feel conviction for their work. Otherwise, what good is he to the world? There are already so many writers lacking care and substance floating around, spewing less-than-admirable work. Need there be any more? Additionally, a writer must convey truth. He must show both good and evil, but do so with caution. As a budding writer myself, I want to fulfill these requirements. In fact, much of the reason I write is to share the truths I've discovered.

My hope is that readers--you guys--can find truth and conviction in my writing, and that you may glean something from it. Something to help you, to give comfort or understanding. That is why I write.

My House on a Sunday Afternoon

It's June.

My brother is asleep on the couch.

A fan hums while it blows away the muggy summer heat.

My dad messes around with his smart phone as he sprawls on a different couch.

The cat stretches out luxuriously on the carpet, oblivious to the world and its cares.

My mother reads about jewelery online.

There's a book left open on the sofa, its pages turning when the fan comes its way.

A pair of house-shoes sits in the middle of the room.

Dove chocolate wrappers litter an end table.

The blinds are down.

My nails are painted a tropical hue.

We still haven't brought in the Sunday paper.

And I don't have a care in the world. 

(I wish this picture was actually part of my house.)

Mockingbird

I'm going to mimic a friend here and share a bunch of quotes that have lingered with me lately.

 “Never be bullied into silence. Never allow yourself to be made a victim. Accept no one’s definition of your life; define yourself.” Robert Frost

 “Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage.”

Love does not begin and end the way we seem to think it does. Love is a battle, love is a war; love is a growing up.

"This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something." Elizabeth Gilbert

 “In the end, all men die. How you lived will be far more important to the Almighty than what you accomplished.” Brandon Sanderson

Sometimes we just have to wait long enough...then we find out why exactly it was that we kept believing.

“Expectations were like fine pottery. The harder you held them, the more likely they were to crack.”

 That's what I am here for. To make people happy.

“The journey is part of the experience - an expression of the seriousness of one's intent. One doesn't take the a train to Mecca.”

“But God doesn't call us to be comfortable. He calls us to trust Him so completely that we are unafraid to put ourselves in situations where we will be in trouble if He doesn't come through.”

“There's nothing like deep breaths after laughing that hard. Nothing in the world like a sore stomach for the right reasons.”

“It's hard to beat a person who never gives up.”

She celebrated her laughter, her longing, her utter sense of well-being. This, she knew, was how living should feel. 

“It was one of those moments of perfect tiredness, of having conquered not only the work at hand, but the night who had blocked the way.”

 "She wanted none of those days to end, and it was always with disappointment that she watched the darkness stride forward. "

It's only half past the point of oblivion: The hourglass on the table, the walk before the run, the breath before the kiss, and the fear before the flames.

"The words were on their way, and when they arrived, she would hold them in her hands like the clouds, and she would wring them out like the rain."

My friends, this is what's been on my mind.