Monday, July 31, 2017

Why I Write (this blog)

When I began writing this blog, I did it because I wanted to muse. Aloud. Like if Juliet in her balcony scene was a vaguely neurotic mystic -- "Oh Romeo, have you ever considered that words shape our destiny?" (I would consider casting Felicia Day, perpetual Manic Pixie Dream Girl, in the movie role.)

Then I realized that I wanted to demystify being a writer. For years, I've tried to demystify being a professor to my students, because colleges will run out of professors if students think we're all like the enigmatic and magnificent Dumbledore. It was easy demystifying professorship, because I am neither enigmatic and magnificent. If I am like anyone at Hogwarts, it's Sybil Trelawney -- eccentric, a little unkempt, and seemingly absent-minded. (For my international readers -- Harry Potter references).

Writers cultivate a certain amount of mystery, with their specialized language (plot twist, plot bunny, query, Marty Stu, McGuffin), their rituals (coffee, lucky pen, writers' retreat) and their bizarre actions (killing their darlings, writing their friends into a story, talking about their characters as if they're real people). There's really no mystery here if you can see the world through a writers' eyes. This is what I hope to do in this blog -- help you see through the eyes of a writer even if the writer is writing through down times, lack of inspiration, and not enough coffee.

And then maybe I will get published someday, and you can celebrate with me.

1 comment:

  1. I can remember when i was a student. I went to class, worked on homework, projects, papers, read the required reading and went to my various jobs throughout the years...i worked on campus. I worked at the union serving food, cleaning the dining halls, cleaning the dorms, painting the doom rooms, and my favorite job...working for the grounds department. None of these jobs were glamours, nor did the require any brain power. The idea of having a job like that for the rest of my life was equvalant to a slow tortuous death for me. I was unequipped to continue to be instructed how to complete simple tasks that did not require any explanation.
    Dreaming of the possibility that some day I would get to have a real professional job with actual responsibilities. Expextations more important than keeping the bathrooms stocked with paper towels and toilet paper were intoxicating to me. Having a job that is also a career that affects other people in a positive way. So yes I was in awe of your job in your beautiful red brick castle surrounded by paper, theories, and exchange of ideas. You used your intellect daily to solve problems, make decisions, and influence the students you were teaching. I was giddy with excitement during the process of acquisition of my degree. The golden ticket that i needed to acquire a job that makes a permanent difference in someone's life.
    That is why I seemed to be mystified.
    This is Lanetta

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