20070123

Towards a Philosophy of Writing and Other Hopes

I see an individual's philosophy of writing as composed, mainly, in two parts. One, the writer's substantive stories - complete with the settings, characters, themes that are expressed. The second half is the infinitely more critical area: the method by which mere ideas morph into art. It is this latter part that I have very little idea how to traverse. I have a lot of experience writing successful non-fiction stemming from my degree in philosophy, but every attempt to flesh out an idea for fiction ends fairly quickly in failure. I lose confidence in my ability to faithfully carry out my intentions - probably because I have no framework to support me when trying times arrive. So, in regard to my method, I have nothing to offer except this generality: if it is anything like the rest of my life's activities, it will be a work-in-progress with an approximate end in the sight but tempered by the knowledge that success doesn't come without adjustment.

Why do I write? Better question: Why do I do anything? (I have very little doubt that this will sound exceedingly arrogant, but I move forward without shame nonetheless) My actions are motivated by the belief that I have a very important, empathetic message that People need to immerse themselves in. (What a self-involved jerk, huh!) Seriously though. While I love beautiful prose (It's damn near my Achilles' Heel!), I'm a theme kinda guy - a "Big Picture" enthusiast, if you will. So, I write to convey meaning - to myself and others - and this is probably why all great authors write. Which by no means is intended to imply that I, as a conveyor of meaning, am even a mediocre writer - much less a great one!

Small-Plasma-in-the-Corner-of-the-Kitchen (Where Wall Meets Ceiling) Goals: To develop a method of consistent, successful writing which, while being a method, also has the flexibility to allow massive deviations from The Plan.

Massive-Anchor-in-the-Sea Goals: To write beautiful, coherent, (Can something be beautiful without being coherent? Probably. Separate arena of discussion though.) prose-laden fiction that reflects ideas of the utmost importance and that People A) empathize with and B) reflect on.

3 comments:

Unknown said...

I shall henceforth maintain the pseudonym Rufus Flambard. Steve, what's up man? I got some new books that are pretty exciting we should talk about soon. Plus, the stuff we are talking about in HST 322: Hst of the Modern Middle East is rich. All signs are pointing to a major step to the right in my view of foreign affairs. Anyways, figure out who this is and get back at me.

Spliffduh muh nifduh,
Rufus

steven said...

AHHHHH! Rufus, you are quite the adversary. I am so torn as to your real identity. But I do love a good detective story and all of a sudden I find myself to be the protagonist in my very own. You will be discovered before the little hand passes 12...in the central standard time zone that is.

"Spliffduh muh nifduh"..still dying from that one..very creative, Rufus.

Anonymous said...

I left you a comment on my blog because I didn't know how to get to yours until I figured out I can look it up on the class website. GENIUS!

I just wanted to add here, after having read your blog, that we do have very much in common and I would like to see your non-fiction pieces as well.

I struggle with the same problem. I have several beginnings to what I believe can be some really amazing fiction, but everytime I get to a point where I freeze and don't know where to take the story next. And unlike most fiction writers, my characters don't lead me anywhere. I find it so easy to write a non-fiction piece, the words lead me to my ultimate understanding as the characters do to other writers.
Maybe we can figure out why we struggle with this indominable thing that is called fiction.

i, i, i

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"Seeing that before long I must confront humanity with the most difficult demand ever made of it, it seems indispensable to me to say who I am. Really, one should know it, for I have not left myself "without testimony." But the disproportion between the greatness of my task and the smallness of my contemporaries has found expression in the fact that one has neither heard nor even seen me. I live on my own credit; is it perhaps a mere prejudice that I live? ... I need only to speak with one of the "educated" who come to the Upper Engadine for the summer, and I am convinced that I do not live ... Under these circumstances I have a duty against which my habits, even more the pride of my instincts, revolt at bottom, namely, to say: Hear me! For I am such and such a person. Above all, do not mistake me for someone else!" - Nietzsche, Ecce Homo