Writer? God?

It’s getting harder to quit this blog because every time I think I’ve ran out of things to say, I come up with things to say. So it seems like I’ll just keep coming to back to claim that my opinions matter and everyone should stop their lives and listen to me. 

I’ve been dealing with a bit of internet hate and it took me all of two minutes to be comfortable to talk about myself again. But I won’t lie, they almost ran me out of my own blog. 

One person thought that I was a girl running in circles and that I don’t have a point to make. I considered dedicating a post to this person just full of gibberish to see if he’d read between the lines and see the point I’d be trying to make which is that he can suck it. 

It seems like trying to be a writer might mean that one is never allowed to make a mistake or ask questions ever again because as one would be writing about things claiming to be knowledgeable, he or she would be automatically expected to know everything. I can understand that a writer carries a heavy burden of having to be critical, smart and very careful of the information one puts down on paper and shares claiming its relevance. But would this person have to completely drop being human as well? 

Consider this. Everyone loves art and many would celebrate a novel or a poem written clearly containing a bit of the writer’s life, grief and sorrow or whatever and people do this without putting into context that the author of this piece is usually just an average human being with a keen talent for choosing words. This person could just be the neighbor they’ve lived next to all their lives or a lame and uninteresting looking person they once sat next to in a taxi. 

 “Dear Authorial intent, you don’t matter.” -John Green

 Once an authored piece goes out into the world, the meaning that it holds in the readers’ minds is allowed to be completely detached from what the author intended. The author is not relevant at all. But what happens when the readers decide that the author does matter? 

I love John Green and that mind beneath his large puff but he’s been facing a lot of hate claiming that he’s a sadist for writing The Fault in our Stars and a perv for being responsive to his fans which consists mainly of teenage girls. I guess the intent might not but the author might sometimes matter. 

Where is the line between writing real things and appearing arrogant? Let’s take Alex Abraham. The things that he writes resounds with a lot of people as being true and honest while to others he just sounds like an arrogant ass. Are writers going to be forever deemed as arrogant because they’re going to claim to know certain things? How are teachers and politicians different? Okay, no one likes politicians.

I don’t know exactly what we expect. There is always a faulty human being behind every piece of art or innovative product or whatever although if we love that piece of creation (or very good reflection?), we somehow want the creator to be something completely unerring or sometimes not exist at all.

It drives people crazy when the artist maintains a certain aura of mystery and maintains an air of not appearing human. It works too! I mean have you seen Stephen King talk? That arrogance will make one cry. Sia didn’t show her face for a while and now BRÅVES are doing a similar thing where they’re not explaining very well who or what the hell that crowned figure is.

I think writers and artists have to maintain a transcendent appreance in order to keep their respect and to defend their art because clearly being down to earth does not work very much.

I asked a few friends for advice about this and one said that authoring shouldn’t be about what people want to hear but about what the author wants to say and another person said that the best way to respond to being called a bad writer is to be unresponsive at all or to not justify it.

As for me, novice does not even begin to describe what I am to writing and maybe I’m not knowledgeable enough to be writing about writing but I want to stick to the most literal meaning of what it is to be a writer. That is, he or she who writes.

I think I’m probably going to spend my whole life trying to explain what it means to be a writer. But in the meantime, I think I’m going to keep doing what I’ve been doing. I’m going to keep being wrong and learning and correcting myself. I’m going to keep asking questions and I’m going to keep writing shit.


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