One thing I realized a few days ago that has persistently stuck inside of my noggin, is the knowing expectation of society for individual's to contribute. For some reason, I had come about to the knowledge that each of us absolutely has to produce something of value by our efforts in exchange for the right to survive. Whether it's working a hot dog stand, or writing a book, we are rewarded for our efforts and it is not an option to refuse this obligation of us. We are born into these expectations, of adding continual value to our environment and this realization really struck a chord with me.
Sure it seems obvious, common sense even, but I have never looked at a job in quite this way before. I have always thought that I was showing up at a certain time to perform certain tasks and off I went, without a look back. But now I realize that it doesn't have to be this way. I can offer the world value in terms of my thoughts. My ideas and writings each has potential in adding value to the world. I need to believe this more fully, knowing how much I loathe my job. I need to know that there are alternatives out there to how I make money, and writing is but one way of many.
But I have to write. I need to get better at it. Type, type type until these words coalesce into something I can market and sell. At the same time I think about the potential of earning a living from writing, I can't also but help think about how disingenuous it somewhat is. I don't like the idea of churning out a "product" where I share my innermost thoughts and feelings. I don't like the idea of charging people admission to my heart when I have it wide open, ready to receive whoever is interested in looking inside. I like sharing myself freely, I don't feel comfortable charging for it, but at the same time, this is really how the world works. You create something, you sell it. You hustle and connive and market and convince and conform, and cater to the demographic that you aim for and hope you get a reward.
Such monkey talk. I'd feel little satisfaction in having to press a lever to get a banana tumbling down the chute into my hands. I would rather... I don't know. I'd rather write for approval and appreciation. To know that my words were enjoyed, useful and contributed value to the reader rather than take advantage of them, leaving them to feel manipulated.
I don't know.. I guess I'm over thinking this sort of thing. On one hand, I know I have to write FOR an audience and not for myself as I do with these blog posts. But I would rather write for myself and let the audience determine itself. I don't like the idea of targeting a specific group of people, but rather ALL people who are interested are welcome to receive my words.
Ironic of me to write all this, being that this blog is completely private and unavailable for the public to look at. But I do have secrets that only I should keep within myself, and it is somewhat cathartic to let fly a burst of emotional energy through my writing.
That realization also, makes writing a novel tough. It's too structured. Too contingent on delivering a product of mass-appeal. It's too constrictive, too niche, too mainstream... I don't feel comfortable dealing with the dilemma of writing for fun, or for profit and I am trying to do my best to marry the two concepts together. To write for FUN and MONEY is what I am presently trying to aspire towards. I need to feel spurred on as I work on something structured, rather than feeling like a slave to it. I don't know if it's my lack of discipline in what I do, but I can't figure out my voice. My natural voice is in these blog posts, where I write without self-editting myself, where I freely let loose what needs release. I can't seem to find it in writing a novel.. I sort of have, but I don't know if that is the approach best suited to my needs.
It's a silly puzzle. Hopefully one day, I'll solve it.
