What I Write
I have always believed that the best writers tell less about themselves and more about everyone else.
When I first began to write a blog, however, I realised how personal and how subjective the blog format can be. In most blogs, people tell the story of their lives, and their readers seem to enjoy the ability to interact with that story by offering advice, kudos, empathy, and so on.
I must confess that I do not always write the story of my life per se. I do write about what I believe are universal emotions and common situations. These are also my emotions and situations to be sure, but they are not always how I am feeling that particular day, and the people to whom I may refer are not necessarily people I know. In fact, some of the pieces that I post are years old, and I am merely revisiting them.
Quite often, the idea for a blog will come when I least expect it, say, when I am sitting having coffee in the mall, and I watch a complete stranger celebrating a moment of happiness with friends or some distraught soul clearly suffering through one of life's recurring dilemmas. Something in me connects with those experiences, and my observations sometimes become the basis for a philosophical meandering, a story, or a poem. In such cases, no one that I "really" know and no one in my immediate experience is involved.
Lately, I have begun to worry that people worry about me because of what I write. So, to set the record straight, no, I am not unhappy with the events of my life, and no, I am not suffering some great loss. Most days, I am thrilled with the blessings of living life as best I know how. My preoccupations, as a writer, are simply directed towards how each of us finds a way through the daily ebb and flow of living — sometimes happy moments and sometimes sad moments as well.
I know there is a darkness in my soul that clearly bleeds into my writing. I would explain all that to you, but I have never been able to find the right words. The best I can ever seem to do is leap to metaphor, and for me, that is enough. I do realise that the ambiguous cloak of metaphor is not always sufficient for others, and they want to know more.
I would offer more if I could.
I can't.
I have always believed that the best writers tell less about themselves and more about everyone else.
When I first began to write a blog, however, I realised how personal and how subjective the blog format can be. In most blogs, people tell the story of their lives, and their readers seem to enjoy the ability to interact with that story by offering advice, kudos, empathy, and so on.
I must confess that I do not always write the story of my life per se. I do write about what I believe are universal emotions and common situations. These are also my emotions and situations to be sure, but they are not always how I am feeling that particular day, and the people to whom I may refer are not necessarily people I know. In fact, some of the pieces that I post are years old, and I am merely revisiting them.
Quite often, the idea for a blog will come when I least expect it, say, when I am sitting having coffee in the mall, and I watch a complete stranger celebrating a moment of happiness with friends or some distraught soul clearly suffering through one of life's recurring dilemmas. Something in me connects with those experiences, and my observations sometimes become the basis for a philosophical meandering, a story, or a poem. In such cases, no one that I "really" know and no one in my immediate experience is involved.
Lately, I have begun to worry that people worry about me because of what I write. So, to set the record straight, no, I am not unhappy with the events of my life, and no, I am not suffering some great loss. Most days, I am thrilled with the blessings of living life as best I know how. My preoccupations, as a writer, are simply directed towards how each of us finds a way through the daily ebb and flow of living — sometimes happy moments and sometimes sad moments as well.
I know there is a darkness in my soul that clearly bleeds into my writing. I would explain all that to you, but I have never been able to find the right words. The best I can ever seem to do is leap to metaphor, and for me, that is enough. I do realise that the ambiguous cloak of metaphor is not always sufficient for others, and they want to know more.
I would offer more if I could.
I can't.
