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The Katalina Blog Challenge #4 : Why I write

Yes, you did count correctly.  I jumped from week #2 to week #4 of the Katalina Blog Challenge.

Why?

Because I’m not the boss of me.

Write about your need for a creative life or simply your need to write. Why do you do it? What needs are fulfilled through it. Try to be honest and thorough, explaining to yourself and everyone else why you MUST write, despite the guilt, the blocks and the thousand other really cool things to do. ~

Well…

I suppose the easy answer is because it is/was always something I was good at.  From a young age I used to write well, and enjoyed creating.

But I gave a lot of thought to this question last year, and posted a post where I examined it.

Faith and Writing #7 – The Creative Spirit

We are told in the Bible that GOD made us in his image.  Male and Female he created us, and then he breathed his Spirit into us.

In his image.

With His Spirit.

But what does that mean?

Well, the first thing we see of GOD in the Bible is in Genesis where he is creating the Earth, and everything in it.  GOD is a creator.  More than that, he is a loving creator, who loves each beautiful thing he brought forth.  He created the peacock because he loves beautiful things, he created the Hippopotamus because he has a sense of humour.

And he loved each thing he created.

juliecameron-artistsway In my writers group at the moment, we are working our way through a book called The Artist’s Way.  The book is subtitled “A Spiritual path to Higher Creativity”.

I like that.  I like the fact that the author, Julia Cameron, says that GOD is a creator, and when he calls us to be like him, he is calling us all to be creators as well.  Suppressing your creative spirit is not only suppressing what GOD gave you, but also suppressing part of his purpose for your life – to create.

I have always felt a strong connection between my writing, and my spirituality, and I think this is one of the ways GOD wants me to express not just myself, but also Him.  I remember a line from Chariots of Fire, where Eric Liddell says, “I believe God made me for a purpose, but he also made me fast. And when I run I feel His pleasure.”

I believe God made me for a purpose, and it might not be to be a writer.  But when I write, I feel His pleasure.  Because then, I am using His creative spirit.

And I hope I can learn to love everything I create, not because it is beautiful, or humorous; but because it is my creation.

 

I don’t know if that answers the question, but I am too lazy to write a new answer.  So sue me.

(If that is too spiritual for you, then keep reading for a more cynical answer.)

But how do we cope with the thought that we might be really bad at what we write?  I once said I was not a very good writer, and was asked….

D7, do you HONESTLY think that? Honestly? Then why bother? Why not take up cross stitch or chess for a hobby? You obviously feel you have something to say.
SOooo I dare you to let one of us (or more) be the judge. Then if we agree with you, we’ll say so and put you out of your misery, or else tell you you’re not awful, and still achieve the same goal! Then everyone’s happy?

To which I responded, by taking their question line by line, as follows:

D7, do you HONESTLY think that?

No, I am an arrogant SOB and I think everything I do is perfect. I was just fishing for compliments from those of you who have actually read some of my stuff.

Honestly?

You’re asking a lawyer?

Then why bother?

Why did Hillary climb mountains? Because they were there.
Why did Biggs rob banks? Because that’s where they keep the money.
Why do writers write? Because a writer writes.

You can read “Snoopy’s Writing guide” and “No Plot. No Problem” until you are blue in the face, but if you want to improve as a writer, you have to write.

I used to be a good writer. (By my own standards at least) But I don’t write very much any more. This forces me to do it, and see how I can get better. Otherwise I sink into darkness and despair from lack of motivation.

Why not take up cross stitch or chess for a hobby?

I did take up chess. I wasn’t very good at it. But I kept doing it for 20 years, and got pretty good. Then I stopped playing for 5 years for personal reasons, and now I play every chance I get, because I am just not as good as I used to be.

D7, do you HONESTLY think that? Honestly? Then why bother? Why not take up cross stitch or chess for a hobby? You obviously feel you have something to say.

There’s your answer. Since when was having something to say reserved for those with talent. Shouldn’t literary midgets get to stand on the shoulders of giants on occasion just to admire the view?

SOooo I dare you to let one of us (or more) be the judge. Then if we agree with you, we’ll say so and put you out of your misery, or else tell you you’re not awful, and still achieve the same goal! Then everyone’s happy?

Except that I never write for other people. I never have. So being good, or awful is not likely to make me happier or less so. Unless you can guarantee lots of fiction groupies with loose morals and looser clothing throwing themselves at me once I start publishing I think I will stay in obscurity and doubt. Happiness is for people who don’t eat chocolate.

Which answer do you prefer?  Why do you read?
Is this a rhetorical question?

 


 
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Posted by on March 10, 2011 in Katalina Challenge

 

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The Katalina Blog Challenge #2: Inserting A Solution

This story continues, with this prompt:

He did not have time for this.

David Seven did not stop tapping the fingers of his left hand on the table, despite the fact that he was glancing at his watch.  It told him the same story it had five minutes ago – that there was still time to walk away.

“I don’t have time for this,” he assured himself.

Who had time for blind dates?  Certainly not busy lawyers, with active social lives and commitments.  He should just stand up and leave now.

Tap.  Tap.  Tap.

The fingers maintained their rapid rhythm, causing the sinews to begin to ache.  He kept up the tapping nevertheless.  Stopping would just be to admit that it had been foolish to start.

Just as walking away now would be to admit that it had been a mistake to come in the first place.

He glanced once more at his watch.  Still five minutes until he could safely leave with his dignity intact, and refuse to meet her again.

After all, he owed nobody anything.  It was not as if he even knew the person who had arranged this meeting.  She was as much a stranger to him as the person he was meeting.  He knew nothing about either of them.  He owed neither of them an explanation about why he had left.

“You must be David,” the voice said, and he looked up.

And the world changed.

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Posted by on February 23, 2011 in Katalina Challenge

 

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