Tag: writing

  • Smashing Writer’s Block

    Smashing Writer’s Block

    I always advised others to get over writer’s block by writing about it. This morning seems to demand that I take some of my own advice. Fair warning then that this post may appear incoherent and nonsensical, but only to you. To me, it will probably be a perfect reflection of the madness that stirs within. We all have such madness, but I think the surrounding of friends or family, or just familiar recognition of who we appear to be subdues the madness because when we feel recognised, we have less reason to demand recognition of what stirs beneath the surface. Most of us hide it, some over-emphasise it, and some of us, the odd few, try to leverage it to feed our passion without appearing totally insane.

    I’m not quite sure which category I fit into this morning. Writing this novel that is inspired by true events from my life makes for some interesting introspection. Regrets threaten to surface as I find myself looking with fresh eyes at incidents from many years ago that I always assumed to have played out differently. Catharsis has nothing to do with it, nor does an indulgence of the ego. It’s the stark realisations or a gentleness of judgement that is possible now but felt unreasonable or unjustified then. Trying to understand the most disruptive influences in my life often leads to realising that they were also the most constructive. Not because they meant to be, but because of what about me was forced to grow because of who they were .

    We leave things behind because we find them unpleasant, not because we find them endearing or cherish-able. The same is true for relationships. Perhaps this is why it is more difficult to recall the good times when you focused on the bad times for so long. Idealism can taint judgement and spawn good intentions that are disastrous at times. Good intentions don’t always result in wholesome outcomes. Sometimes it causes more destruction than any bad intention ever could.

    Speaking of idealism, I am reminded about my own quote recently that claimed that there are no bad intentions, only poorly informed decisions. This is more true and real for me this morning than it was when I wrote that a few weeks ago. Even when we go about deliberately wanting to cause harm or pain, the motivation to do so is grounded in a need to avenge a wrong, or to teach a lesson, both of which are inherently good intentions. Understanding and compassion will probably improve the method we use when setting out to teach someone a lesson, but understanding and compassion are seldom traits that we court during moments of despair or disappointment. Reclaiming our significance is all that seems to matter, which is why regrets only follow after destroying the significance that we fought so hard to claim.

    Being an anomaly of society has its romantic connotations but only until the moment that human connection is needed, or desired. It’s impossible to connect with normal when you’re an anomaly. Normal appears boring and shallow, or distracted at best, and being anomalous feels dysfunctional in a society that is normalised by tradition, culture, or social standing. Each time I thought I found a place for myself in this world, I discovered that I was simply a placeholder for someone else instead. I hate tokens and trinkets because they rarely have any inherent value other than the sentiment that we endow on them. Being anomalous feels like that on most days.

    Self-pity is pitiful, and it also assumes that there is something worthy of pity. Therefore, true self-pity can’t exist, and any appearance of self-pity must therefore be a desperation for attention or affection, or both, rather than any sense of remorse or regret. No one truly believes that they are pitiful, or useless. Any professions of the same is nothing more than a desire to find someone to disagree with them.

    Writer’s block is for writers. But we’re all writers of our own story, with some of us having the requisite level of narcissism to believe that our story is worth sharing. Narcissism itself is not a bad thing. We all have it in us. It starts out with believing that we’re worthy, and gets out of hand when we believe that we’re more worthy than others. Believing in your worth is a healthy form of narcissism, because anything less would be self-deprecation which is a sign of ingratitude. Therefore, it suggests that a narcissist is potentially more grateful than one who appears humble. Now there’s something to ponder on cold nights and warm hearths.

    My reasons for writing and sharing what I write sways between wanting to contribute towards improving the world we live in, and wanting to point out the obvious to the oblivious so that I can see the a-ha moments on their faces as I feel significant in knowing that I caused it. The truth is probably somewhere between those two ideals. I’d rather continue rambling than facing that novel again right now. It feels like much ado about nothing, personified.

    Similar to the first book that I wrote. Great feedback from those that found the tenacity to read it to the end, but dismissive remarks of its complexity from those that lack the conviction to look closer, at themselves more than at me. Perhaps the greatest lesson that I’ve learnt from my journey towards becoming a writer in my own right is that unless you come from a family with a strong tradition in a similar field, you will be the odd one out that no one else gets. Chances are therefore also good that writers are most often middle-children or an only child because those with familiar or kindred spirits have less reason to articulate their soul’s desires or aspirations in their search for peace.

    The madness must abate. Alas, I have deadlines and bills to pay. The cynic in me must rest so that the demands of a practically boring and slavish existence can prevail in order to maintain the semblance of sanity that society pretends to hold.

  • To Tell Your Story

    To Tell Your Story

    After an insightful and engaging workshop that lasted all week, I found myself contemplating whether I have a story worth sharing. There are far more intriguing and gut wrenching stories than my own, and no shortage of them being from my own demographic as well. So I was forced to consider why mine is any different.

    To understand why I found reason to question this, you need to be aware of my aversion to writing for the sake of getting attention, or sharing stories to get sympathy. I think deliberate sensationalism is tantamount to selling your soul, and publishing a book so that you can get the accolade of being a published author is only tainting the profession more than self-publishing already has. This probably sounds hypocritical from someone that just self-published their own book. (By the way, it’s called The Egosystem and you can find more info about it from the link on my homepage).

    Cheekiness aside, accessibility to platforms like self-publishing is great for people that have a sense of pride in their work. People who don’t live their lives believing that everything they do is inspired, and everything they say is inspiring. It’s for people who have a healthy level of doubt and care enough to question the quality and value of what they’re putting out there. I’m not suggesting that they must have a perfected product before hitting publish! Not at all. But when I contrast that against the so-called writers that brag about the 42 or 50 books that they self-published just last year alone, I must question the quality and the seriousness with which they’re pursuing their craft.

    Self-publishing is a blessing for writers that don’t have the funds, resources, or connections to get a publisher to take on their project. It’s also great for someone that has something of value to share but doesn’t have the network of support or means to get professional services before releasing their publication. However, if you have the ability to self-publish, then you also have the ability to do research and fact-checking. You have the resources and skill to produce more than just a dreadful cover that looks like a 10-year old’s doodle in PowerPoint, and you definitely have the ability and tools to understand the basics of plagiarism.

    The problem with people that don’t take these basics seriously is that apart from destroying their credibility as writers, they fill up the online stores with such a huge load of absolute crap that the good stuff gets buried so deep that it is next to impossible to find. That means that any writer that takes their craft seriously will have to spend that much more on marketing and promos, and put in that much more effort just to find an audience. Contrary to common belief, word of mouth is not as viral or available as many world like to believe it is.

    Every indie author dreams of publishing their book and then getting friends, relatives, and acquaintances to buy it, read it and tell everyone that they know how amazing the book was, and in that way sell enough copies to get the attention of a major publishing house so that they stand a chance of hitting the big time. If that ever does happen, there is more fluke involved than there is a well thought out plan to make it happen. Like many other indie authors, I also got a rude awakening when I realised how expensive social media advertising is, and how unsustainable paid advertisements are for getting and keeping your audience’s attention for long enough for them to make a buying decision. Unless you have a small fortune (preferably a large one) to invest in promoting your book, there is a good chance that it will remain a well kept secret, all thanks to the flippant writers that think that being able to publish without restraint is a license to dump garbage on the Internet.

    Beyond the above challenges, the key challenge facing a new writer is finding the confidence to share their story because with the millions of books out there already, chances are good that a similar or better story has already been told. What I’ve realised this week is that it’s not just the story that matters. It’s so much more including the authenticity in your narration, your unique expression, and of course a little bit of luck and a thick skin that all come together to give you a fighting chance of producing a book that more than just a few people will be willing to pay to read.

    If you have enough self respect to care about putting your name against a piece of work intended for the enjoyment or benefit of others, and you believe in the value of the story that you want to share, then share it, but be authentic in your expression and don’t try to be someone else. And most importantly, show due respect to your intended readers by producing a quality piece of work and not something that resulted from a wet dream of fame and fortune because you hope to stumble upon the correct numbers for the lottery after publishing.

    (This probably sounds arrogant and condescending to many, but I don’t care because liberalism holds no promise for those wishing to master their craft, and offers no direction for those seeking a new path).

  • To Write the Wrong

    I recently set out in earnest to write the book that I’ve been threatening to write for so many years now. The better part of the last few years was spent contemplating whether or not I had anything of real value to add to the clutter out there. This was easily over shadowed by whether or not I wanted to put myself out there to be challenged by pseudo intellectuals (they probably say the same about me) and academics (are they one and the same?) and recognised authorities in the fields in which I dabble. The realisation I was left with was the fact that even if there was truth to either of these considerations, I had not tested it to determine the veracity of it, and therefore it was nothing less than a failure of conviction on my part.

    Conviction is an awkward thing, because more often than not, I’ve found my conviction tested not long after I boldly professed to hold said conviction. It’s like a game of tempting fate that I tend to play quite often. I square up bravely, pretending not to flinch, while internally steadying myself for the onslaught that has proven to be inevitable since the earliest days of my recollections. When it hits, I’ve pretty much prepared myself for most eventualities and therefore am able to remain composed when most around me are losing their minds.

    But getting back to the point of this post, in my time using this blog to vent and rant and express myself in colourful ways at times, I’ve developed some bad habits in the way I write. I only realised how many bad habits I accumulated as I started writing the book. Chapter One has been re-edited several times and still needs a lot of work to make it reasonably coherent. The key difference between ranting on a blog and writing a book is that the blog is mostly intended to offload, whereas the book is intended to draw the reader closer so that they may be able to appreciate the perspectives that I share.

    Therefore, on the blog, it’s a matter of resonating with the collective angst on a subject, while the book can’t stop there. It has to go beyond the resonation and reach a point of meaningful progression. At least that’s the aim from my side. So I’m having to take a critical view of my writing like never before. The play on words, or the clever puns and alliteration is now only a small portion of this iceberg that bops around in the sea before me. I could be safe and navigate my way around the iceberg by adopting tried and tested writing techniques from other authors, but that would firmly land me in the land of clutter, with all those others that have taken the safe route.

    My challenge is now to retain some sense of my individual expression while also communicating in a way that reduces the cryptic vagueness of my writing. I guess someone that browses through a blog post is expecting something very different compared to someone that picks up a book to read. It’s that difference that I need to learn to appreciate so that I can adapt my tone and pitch in a way that does not detract from who I am and what I have to offer, while simultaneously engaging the reader enough to want to keep reading without growing weary of the content.

    I guess the requisite level of narcissism required to put myself out there appears to be setting in. Whether innocently informed or self-indulgent in motivation remains to be seen. But that’s just another distraction that I need to avoid because contemplating how I’ll be received versus how I wish to be received is a fine line that is easy to trip me up without realising it before it’s too late. So best to avoid the fine lines, the assumptions, or the excessive questioning, and just dive straight into the deep and work my way to the shore. Perhaps in that lies the secret of conviction.

    Time will tell.

  • Writer’s Block

    I recently advised someone that when faced with writer’s block, the best remedy is to write about it. Seems counter-intuitive, but it seems to work for me. My problem though is that I don’t recognise myself as a writer. I vent through words, often carefully selected to maintain the level of neutrality needed in my sentiments so as not to offend many close associates that I was bold enough to invite into this blog space. That, and the fact that I would not want this space to be turned into a sensationalist’s whoring for attention. I think it works beneficially for me because it forces me to focus on the issues at hand, rather than taking an easy swipe at soft targets.

    Soft targets, on the other hand, make for an easy solution to writer’s block, if I were a writer, that is. The problem I have with subscribing to that label is that it assumes that I have writing worth sharing, or more importantly, that I do justice to the part. I ramble. A lot. That rambling is often my attempt to make sense of the internal conversations I’m having, while my focus is to articulate it in a way that will make sense to someone witnessing my cycle of insanity, if they were privy to it. So I write the way I think, often without filters, with the exception of the scenario described in the opening paragraph. Whether this is good or bad remains to be seen. But again, it only remains to be seen if it was written for the audience and not primarily for my own sanity.

    Thoughts that have threatened to prompt me to write in recent weeks appear to consistently centre around the acquisition of knowledge. I’m caught between the need versus the want of knowing something. I know that one is driven by the ego and the other by sincere curiosity, but the words are so easily interchangeable that it’s difficult to make a definitive observation about it. What I am convinced of though, is the fact that there are times when we demand to know something simply because we feel entitled to the information, or because we wish to use it for ulterior motives. The lesser frequent motivation for acquiring knowledge is because we are genuinely curious and seek to understand, rather than judge. While both have their place, I think there is a significant imbalance leaning towards the former. Given the state we find the world in today, it’s not surprising that most knowledge is acquired for egotistical purposes before anything else.

    Perhaps in that is some hint at what would cause the writer’s among us to block. Perhaps writer’s block is what happens to all of us in different ways, whether we’re writers or not. I think that when we lose sight of purpose, we struggle to find reason. In the absence of reason or purpose, we’re most likely to act in response to an expectation rather than to act towards fulfilling a greater purpose. If we’re fortunate, we realise it soon enough and refocus our efforts which clears the mental block that stifled our progress. If we don’t realise it soon enough, chances are that our ego will succeed in clouding our judgement further, and in our efforts to allay our fears of insignificance or incompetence, we play to the audience and slowly erode any sense of purpose we had in what we set out to do simply because we cannot afford to be seen as lacking.

    The fact that we may be travelling the same path that we set out on does not necessarily mean that we still take joy or benefit from travelling it. I think there’s an important point in there somewhere. I also just realised that writing about my mental block spawned thoughts that were hardly at the forefront of my mind when I started. I guess the trick is to be able to express without judging yourself first, or without considering if what is to be expressed will be seen as wisdom, or whimsical. I generally don’t care much for the opinions of others, although recently I have been distracted by it from time to time. When that distraction reared its head, I found myself floundering in my ability to be decisive which is a very frustrating place to be.

    Re-centering my thought process on what I subscribe to has made the difference between bobbing around aimlessly in the sea of dysfunction around me and setting the current to disrupt that same sea. Disruption is often frowned upon, but usually only by those that lack purpose. Disruption in thought and deed is needed to avoid slipping into a rut of routine while believing we’re part of something great. That something great is usually the energy of the masses that are in that rut with us, while the volume of our collective trudging quickly turns that rut into a trench. The distracted masses then look around and celebrate their time in the trenches as a select few rise to the top and exit the trenches because they became the champions of the dysfunction purely through tenure rather than contribution. It’s the age-old celebration of a struggle. The duration of our struggles is often what defines us, more than our emergence from the same state. It’s the shortest path to pacification of the meek.

    The cynic in me is thriving, which is usually a sign that I need to abate and reflect. Introspection is a good place to be. It’s a pity that it is so often disrupted by a need to act on its fruit, where the absence of such action will leave us being as impotent as the foam on the ocean. Writer’s block be gone.

  • I write and that way rid …

    I write and that way rid myself of me and then at last I can rest

    Shantosophy

  • I think you're intelligent and you're opinionated. You also like to make sure everyone knows it too, not just with your wide vocabulary but because of how you carry yourself. You like to stand out and you also refuse to be a part of "The Sheep Herd" and so you choose to do everything different. You always strive for perfection and you get very upset when things don't meet your standards. So when you struggle in life, you become frustrated and you start to reevaluate everything.

    Thank you for your candidness. There’s very few people, unless they’re trying to get the better of me, that offer such candid feedback. So I really appreciate it. I understand completely why you, and many others, would get such an impression of me, and I guess that’s been the struggle of my life. Getting people to understand where I’m coming from rather than what appears to be my motives. 

    I’m always surprised at comments about my use of language because like I said in previous posts, I don’t read that much. Most of the reading I do is online, and that’s usually articles of interests, blogs, or news items. 

    I am opinionated, but the motivation for being so is not as obvious as most may think. I actually hate being the centre of attention. It makes me awkward and self-conscious. But I love challenging people’s ideas and views because so few people take a critical view of themselves. We’re conditioned to believe that being critical is a negative thing, when in fact it’s the root of growth. In my opinion anyway. 🙂

    I don’t strive for perfection. I’m incredibly lazy to be honest. So in my laziness, and my idealism, I get easily frustrated when I see someone doing something in 10 steps when it can be done in 2. Simplistically, that is what drives my behaviour and my attitude. It’s my desire to simplify things, to avoid unnecessary effort, and to do more with less. When we complicate things, we waste energy and create issues that take up valuable time. 

    I know this all must sound so clichéd, but the truth is that I have got death on my mind most of the time. So when I see people exhausting themselves over things that may be inconsequential to the outcome of their lives, or to the legacy that they need to leave behind (not related to wealth), then I grow impatient with them because I want them to focus on what’s important instead. At least what I have found to be important based on my life’s experiences. 

    I don’t like exhaustive circular debates, so I choose my words carefully most of the time because while responding to questions or criticisms, my mind is automatically jumping two steps ahead in trying to pre-empt what my response may prompt. So I end up explaining myself two steps ahead just to prevent an unnecessary debate. It’s difficult to explain really, but I think it stems from my work in the legal space regarding drafting of contracts between organisations.

    I think it’s my exposure to dishonest people in the work place, and in life, and the bad after taste of dealing with them is what drives me to be so pedantic at times. It’s an arrogant desire to want to shut them up decisively so that they have no graceful exit from the conversation at all. But it takes a lot to push me to the point where I respond so callously towards someone. 

    So I guess what I’m trying to say is that I don’t try to do anything differently, nor do I like to attract undue attention to myself. I just grow easily frustrated with people living unconsciously and I’m naive enough to believe that people in general are as driven as I am to improve the way they do things. So I volunteer my opinion or advice which is often misconstrued as arrogance. But I can’t help myself. 

  • Free Advice on Document Writing

    Here’s my pet peeves when it comes to document writing:

    1. The document is worded the way the author thinks rather than how it is supposed to be read
    2. The content is answering a question that is irrelevant to the subject or focus of the issue at hand
    3. The audience is completely forgotten in the pitch of the document
    4. The formatting is inconsistent and tardy
    5. Slang or other informal terms are used

    If you want to make sure that your document serves its intended purpose, and that it will be read, then keep the following in mind:

    1. Write it the way you want it to be read, not the way you’re thinking it out loud. It shows.
    2. After every statement or three, ask yourself if you’re still answering the right question or responding to the right need. If not, delete and rephrase. The last thing you want is a really good answer to the wrong question! 
    3. If you’re writing a document intended for junior level staff, go into approproate detail that will be needed to guide them in what they need to do. If it’s for senior management, including irrelevant detail will lose their attention as well as give the impression that you’re petty or nitpicking.
    4. Take the time to align your margins, justify your text correctly, and apply suitable capitalisation to your headings and sub-headings. A shoddy looking document is that much more difficult to take seriously.
    5. Using cool terms that are the latest social buzz may sound cool to your friends and social networking buddies, but it leaves a bad after taste in a formal document because it undermines the professionalism of the reader, and assumes a level of familiarity that is most probably inappropriate.

    Hope that helps. And I hope that some sorry sod is spared the pain of having to read a crappy document as a result of these simple points being applied.

  • Question – To Blog or Reblog?

    seinedoll replied to your post: runesofthedead answered your question: I think…

    Maybe some of us don’t write because they can’t.

    :p 

    Look who’s talking!

    It’s not the writing style only that appeals to me. And I definitely don’t consider myself a writer. It’s just the insight that is offered into how someone may view the world so that I have an opportunity to either relate, or to obtain a fresh perspective. In a strange way, it affords me a connection with others that has been rare in my real life. So I guess it’s a selfish indulgence. Me wanting to connect with others in a way that isn’t normally possible given the social prejudices and constraints that prevent it otherwise.