Though we talk about “the individual vs the collective,” as if that dichotomy is an eternal truth about the world, there exist groups that encourage divergence and healthy individuation.
I find myself often in this conflict between catering to an audience and following my inner voice, and they usually take one of two forms: 1) a perfectionist tendency to delay publishing anything until it gains enough complexity; 2) a fear of writing stuff that are in stark contrast to the persona I usually present to friends and family, which compose most of my subscribers. Worse, if I can’t expect to publish sth new, I lose the motivation to write it down in the first place.
To that point, I really like how you chose the word “illegible” together with “searching, creative”. In a similar vein, a friend who’s learning poetry recently suggested that I allow space for myself to “get messy”in order to create anything novel. It’s a reminder that good work could look completely hopeless in the early stages, so don’t be disheartened too early. This applies to other creative tasks as well - the first drafts of designs looking offtrack, the earliest stages of companies seeming like dorm room projects, etc.
But how can one allow themselves to create messy work? My friend suggested that the process should look a lot more like “play” instead of “work”. “Go on dates with your inner child.” She told me, “it’s important to keep it fun.” To find an audience that supports one’s continual unfolding, one can start by being one for themselves, by staying in the moment instead of fixating on others’ expectations.
Oh - I have a lot of 1. I kind of like that - for me that is a space of play. I publish only about half of the essays I write (some are very weird and go nowhere - I have one about Inca indians going to space which I cannot justify in any matter, and I doubt I'll ever publish it). That way I can take more risks. I often keep them around for a while, playing around with them, cutting out a part and expanding that to another essay etc etc - opening up avenues of exploration and play. And then after 1-6 months, I'll pack up a few and publish them. Some of the fragments and explorations I share with a closer circle. So that is one way I let play in.
Also: you let your friends read!!
I didn't let anyone I know read for a long time - that was also a way of allowing myself to melt my old identities and fumble toward a new. Then a piece of mine was syndicated in The Spectator and someone recognized my name and sent it to my father, so now all my family is here...
"To find an audience that supports one’s continual unfolding, one can start by being one for themselves, by staying in the moment instead of fixating on others’ expectations." <<< this is the key, at least until you find people whose expcations make you giddy.
I should also add that the string of adjectives: "illegible, searching, creative" -- I lifted that sentence almost straight from a comment Micheal Nielsen made on the draft.
This is such a beautiful post. I feel it's very difficult to adequately convey how much of an internal and relational challenge that writing and pinpointing authenticity is. There is so much conflict between self and the imagined specter of the audience, and I sort of started writing with the expectation that it would go away eventually, but it just sort of morphs into a more tangly thing.
Lately I've simplified my blog writing, and have also been rushing through essay submissions, focusing on making it more accessible and learning about the response, but I find crave more space to sharpen my thinking. With this scrapper writing I learn a little bit about what themes are in the background of my life but don't take the opportunity to go deep and mess around in my mental architecture because I have an expectation that it's too obscure and tedious for most. This is a good reminder for me to do more of that, even if in private.
Really feeling no.2 there, those reactions from audience can fester into a writing wound so quickly, mine got so bad that I just stopped sharing writing, stopped telling people I was a writer and now struggle with it, as you said, it's like an overwhelming physical reaction to writing. I'm also an artist and it's come up a lot lately, the 'I should be further along in my art career' and I'm just...not, my art doesn't resonate as widely in that way and teaching myself to enjoy the process and make because it's my way of connecting to the world has been a source of motivation and comfort.
This brought into sharp focus my relationship with the work of a specific artist.
I don't think I've ever liked any song of Aurora's the first time I would hear them. But, weirdly during the pandemic, I became obsessed with connecting with her music? (I have no idea why I had this unconditional trust that if I gave her music time, something would open up for me.)
She would publish music. I wouldn't like it. I would listen to it 50 times - in different periods of my life, live + studio versions, read the lyrics, watch music videos, etc. Inevitably, one day, there would be a resonance. I have been caught completely off-guard every time it happens.
It's almost as if when you are doing something different as a creator, it can take time for the resonance to develop between you and an audience. If a song is doing something strange, I'm not necessarily going to emotionally connect with it within a 2 minute listen. It needs time to percolate.
I sometimes do that with poetry, where I just decide to sit with it until resonance is achieved - it is a very distinct feeling, often more layered than immediate resonance.
And there is also something beautiful about artists who take their listners on a journey across a career - Bon Iver and Radiohead are the first that come to mind for me, where they have ended up very far from where they started, but sort of held the audience hand along the way.
It’s the same when we comment. Are the author and co-audience, receptive to our comments? Will we feel at home here or are only certain types of comments welcome? Will the author even respond or listen? That will determine if we continue to be readers or leave.
Very helpful, thanks! Sometimes the simplest ideas are the most powerful. Layers of nuances trivially hide them away.
It may well be true that ‘scripta manent, verba volant’, but It is always worth to remember that disseminating writing is not unlike reading your poetry aloud.
Thanks for sharing! Lots of good insights.
I find myself often in this conflict between catering to an audience and following my inner voice, and they usually take one of two forms: 1) a perfectionist tendency to delay publishing anything until it gains enough complexity; 2) a fear of writing stuff that are in stark contrast to the persona I usually present to friends and family, which compose most of my subscribers. Worse, if I can’t expect to publish sth new, I lose the motivation to write it down in the first place.
To that point, I really like how you chose the word “illegible” together with “searching, creative”. In a similar vein, a friend who’s learning poetry recently suggested that I allow space for myself to “get messy”in order to create anything novel. It’s a reminder that good work could look completely hopeless in the early stages, so don’t be disheartened too early. This applies to other creative tasks as well - the first drafts of designs looking offtrack, the earliest stages of companies seeming like dorm room projects, etc.
But how can one allow themselves to create messy work? My friend suggested that the process should look a lot more like “play” instead of “work”. “Go on dates with your inner child.” She told me, “it’s important to keep it fun.” To find an audience that supports one’s continual unfolding, one can start by being one for themselves, by staying in the moment instead of fixating on others’ expectations.
Oh - I have a lot of 1. I kind of like that - for me that is a space of play. I publish only about half of the essays I write (some are very weird and go nowhere - I have one about Inca indians going to space which I cannot justify in any matter, and I doubt I'll ever publish it). That way I can take more risks. I often keep them around for a while, playing around with them, cutting out a part and expanding that to another essay etc etc - opening up avenues of exploration and play. And then after 1-6 months, I'll pack up a few and publish them. Some of the fragments and explorations I share with a closer circle. So that is one way I let play in.
Also: you let your friends read!!
I didn't let anyone I know read for a long time - that was also a way of allowing myself to melt my old identities and fumble toward a new. Then a piece of mine was syndicated in The Spectator and someone recognized my name and sent it to my father, so now all my family is here...
"To find an audience that supports one’s continual unfolding, one can start by being one for themselves, by staying in the moment instead of fixating on others’ expectations." <<< this is the key, at least until you find people whose expcations make you giddy.
I should also add that the string of adjectives: "illegible, searching, creative" -- I lifted that sentence almost straight from a comment Micheal Nielsen made on the draft.
This is such a beautiful post. I feel it's very difficult to adequately convey how much of an internal and relational challenge that writing and pinpointing authenticity is. There is so much conflict between self and the imagined specter of the audience, and I sort of started writing with the expectation that it would go away eventually, but it just sort of morphs into a more tangly thing.
Lately I've simplified my blog writing, and have also been rushing through essay submissions, focusing on making it more accessible and learning about the response, but I find crave more space to sharpen my thinking. With this scrapper writing I learn a little bit about what themes are in the background of my life but don't take the opportunity to go deep and mess around in my mental architecture because I have an expectation that it's too obscure and tedious for most. This is a good reminder for me to do more of that, even if in private.
Really feeling no.2 there, those reactions from audience can fester into a writing wound so quickly, mine got so bad that I just stopped sharing writing, stopped telling people I was a writer and now struggle with it, as you said, it's like an overwhelming physical reaction to writing. I'm also an artist and it's come up a lot lately, the 'I should be further along in my art career' and I'm just...not, my art doesn't resonate as widely in that way and teaching myself to enjoy the process and make because it's my way of connecting to the world has been a source of motivation and comfort.
This brought into sharp focus my relationship with the work of a specific artist.
I don't think I've ever liked any song of Aurora's the first time I would hear them. But, weirdly during the pandemic, I became obsessed with connecting with her music? (I have no idea why I had this unconditional trust that if I gave her music time, something would open up for me.)
She would publish music. I wouldn't like it. I would listen to it 50 times - in different periods of my life, live + studio versions, read the lyrics, watch music videos, etc. Inevitably, one day, there would be a resonance. I have been caught completely off-guard every time it happens.
It's almost as if when you are doing something different as a creator, it can take time for the resonance to develop between you and an audience. If a song is doing something strange, I'm not necessarily going to emotionally connect with it within a 2 minute listen. It needs time to percolate.
That is very interesting.
I sometimes do that with poetry, where I just decide to sit with it until resonance is achieved - it is a very distinct feeling, often more layered than immediate resonance.
And there is also something beautiful about artists who take their listners on a journey across a career - Bon Iver and Radiohead are the first that come to mind for me, where they have ended up very far from where they started, but sort of held the audience hand along the way.
Oh wow! I was surprised to hear you mention Bon Iver, and now I need to listen to their albums!
(My preconception of Bon Iver was solely based on knowing 1 or 2 songs of theirs in high school. They definitely merit a re-visit. =)
It’s the same when we comment. Are the author and co-audience, receptive to our comments? Will we feel at home here or are only certain types of comments welcome? Will the author even respond or listen? That will determine if we continue to be readers or leave.
Brilliant.
Very helpful, thanks! Sometimes the simplest ideas are the most powerful. Layers of nuances trivially hide them away.
It may well be true that ‘scripta manent, verba volant’, but It is always worth to remember that disseminating writing is not unlike reading your poetry aloud.