The Greatness of the Warrior does not come only from her strength and daring, her skill with the sword or light saber, or her ability to vanquish her foes. It comes from the honorable way she conducts herself, from her devotion to truth and peace, from the respect she has for others, and from the courage with which she faces battle. To fulfill his greatest potential, a writer must also foster these qualities in himself. Despite the focus of writing classes, excellence in writing isn't only about voice and style. It is also about finding the truest parts of ourselves and having the moral strength never to waver from what we hold sacred. To find that strength, we can look to the warrior as a model and a guide.
Devotion to Truth
The medieval knight believed that whoever was on the side of truth would win the battle. Even if we must be more realistic today, truth is no less important now than it was a thousand years ago. But if someone asked you right now to list the basic truths you live by, could you answer? Most of us can come up with some sort of response, but it is seldom well thought out or clearly articulated. It takes some work to uncover what we truly believe in, but once we do, those truths can serve as beacons both for our daily lives and for our writing.
Courage
"Fiction never exceeds the reach of the writer's courage," says Bastard Out of Carolina author Dorothy Allison-and the same could be said for any type of writing. Courage is the first quality we think of when we envision the warrior. Surely it takes great valor to go into battle knowing that death may be waiting for you there. Writing doesn't demand that kind of immense physical bravery, but it does require great moral valor.
What is so threatening about writing? Many things are. You face the blank page knowing only you can fill it-and only if you slice into your soul. You open the deepest regions of your heart to strangers who have no reason to care. You offer the fruits of your labor, love, and struggle to agents, editors, publishers, and reviewers who will often tell you it is unworthy, feeble, pathetic. You ask those agents, editors, and publishers to risk their careers for your ideas. You face the fact that you may work for years and years without external success. You read the work of others who get published to great accolades-even when they do not write as well as you do. You have to tell everyone who asks that, no, you have not sold any of your five novels or eighteen short stories or eighty-two poems. You deal with rejection, rejection, rejection.
Writing takes another kind of courage as well. It takes courage to write the raw, unvarnished truth: to expose your most private memories, dreams, and fears; to face up to what is wrong in the world and put it on the page; and to write with utter authenticity. That is why so many of us shy away from anything ugly, sordid, or repulsive in our writing. It is also why publishers' slush piles are full of works that read false-too many of us are trying to stay on safer ground.
Fortunately, you can learn to deal with all of this fear. This is not to say that you can get rid of it entirely-or would even want to, for a certain amount of fear can be a powerful motivator-but that there are techniques for making it manageable.
(From Writing as a Sacred Path by Jill Jepson)
No comments:
Post a Comment