Turning points happen when a revelation is discovered. When a widget goes ‘click’ and something changes that allows us to do something great. I’m not exactly sure if this counts, but it feels like I’ve made one. I’m trying to be the type of writer that dosn’t allow himself to be filtered by an invisible audience. I want to be bold and at times mean and controversial – because sometimes my ideas are. I recently sat down and jammed out a few hundred words of dribble and decided to share it, unedited, with you all. It reads like a crazy person but it feels like a turning point. Something to build upon as I work towards finding my voice.
Please try to ignore the spelling, grammar, punctuation, and general cohesiveness of the following crime against literacy. Oh, and sorry not sorry for all the F bombs.
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The reigns need to come off. The muzzle must be removed. In my life and in my writing I need to get my head out of my ass and let throttle go. Full bore ahead. How many other cliches can I come up with to say STOP HOLDING BACK. Tiny House Works. I’ve been writing about tiny homes and minimalist lifestyle as if I’m speaking to middle age women. I was told once upon a time that this was my demographic. Really? REALLY? Is this really the demographic I want to be writing for? My mother? Fuck no (sorry mom). I need to start writing for the only demographic that really matters. Here’s a hint: it’s a party of one.
Write for yourself. WRITE FOR YOURSELF. This is the most important thing to keep in mind because when I’m writing for myself there is nothing pulling me away from what I really want to say. There is no second guessing or ‘well, maybe’s. Unfiltered raw content. That’s what I want. That’s what people want because as stupid as people can be, they know a bullshitter when they see one. And given the anonimity the internet provides us, they will call you out with vicious persistence.
I’ve heard both sides. Some people champion caitering to a particular audience. There is some merit in this if you’re Don Draper or Rupert Murdoch. I’m neither a Mad Man or an asshole, so who the fuck do I need to be dancing for? When I write, I have a tendency to imagine the critics. What will people say about this? How will this make people feel? Fuck that. I can’t control how someone is going to interpret words on a page. If this is art (and I’m not saying it is) it should be viewed however the viewer decides to view it. In fact, a decision isn’t even involved. There is either a positive feeling or a negative one. That is what I want. The worst kind of content is that which extracts no reaction. Lukewarm writing is dead writing. Be boring and be unemployed.
And stop doing what you’re doing right now. Stop re-reading the last paragraph, checking and checking and revising and tinkering. There is plenty of time for editing but that time is not now. This train don’t stop until it flies off the unfinished tracks into the canyon in a spectacular explosion of verbs and nouns. Shit, I’m really going to turn off those squiggly red lines that pop up under a word when you’ve spelled it correctly. That thing has single hadedly strangled a writers ability to gain momentum. You know what doesn’t have that? Typewriters. Pens. Pencils. Tools that are made for moving forawrd not peering back over your shoulder ever time you’ve made a mistake. Mistakes are the good shit. They are the lessons and the scars and the connective tissue that make you stronger. Make them and be proud of them. You won’t get good without them.
I’m serious about those squiggly lines. I can’t stop loking at them. They are pereferal poison. Can they be turned off even? I’m wondering if the litttle red squiggle is some elaborate scheme to keep us from being great, from being bold and interesting. From challenging the current state of things an make us line up in the long, slow, burning line towards the middle. Fuck that. Fuck muzzles and fences and barriers. Burn them down or smash through them.
Good Talk. Keep writing and never fucking stop. No distractions. Read. Write.WRitgt. Eat. Work. Iza. Write Write Write. Read. Iza. Sleep. Coffee. Write. Work. Never stop. Never slow down.