Tally directed me to this list about writing, and I decided that it would be a totally expected of me to blog about it. So I did.
Here are my rules for writing, and I don’t know if they will always serve me well. I hope they will.
1. Its a waste of time trying to please anyone.
I will always write what suits me. To this date, it has involved pirates, mechas, feminism, atheism, vegetarianism, martial arts and a lot of ‘dammits’ thrown in. My friends who have read my writing are still my friends, and they know they don’t have to read it if they don’t want to. So, I still write for myself.
2. Writing for money is like throwing bottles in the ocean
Because so few authors can actually live off their writing, and because I don’t really write anything marketable, I am happy to write for the sake of writing. Hence, the blog.
3. If you haven’t pissed someone off, you’re doing it wrong.
That sums up my more vitriolic writings. People have to think about something in order to get angry about it. I used to get angry at vegetarians. Now I am one. So guess who won.
4. Writing is wonderful solipsism, and totally acceptable.
In my laptop, there are thousands of words, creating worlds and people I like to spend time with. By adding more details to both, I can maximise my personal pleasure. If it makes me happy, maybe it’ll make someone else happy.
5. Read like its chocolate and sex
I love reading. I read through all the articles I can, and seek constant information. More often than not, it gets me going on my own writing. That includes everything from lists on the internet to my friends’ writing to newspaper articles to traditional novels. Even if its crap writing, it still provides a lesson. And even if it was written by someone amazing, its still something to aspire to.
Writing, more simply, is something that has to be in the blood, and it still keeps me sane and expressive. It is the medium through which I record my life and thoughts and joys, and without it I might be in a great deal of mental agony. Its never been about the money, not really. Because if it was, I wouldn’t be writing what I do. Like everything else in my life, my writing is about me. I know its shameful narcissism, but obnoxious honesty is still better than spineless modesty, and all I can hope for is that other people enjoy my writing. But if they don’t, and even if no one ever agrees to pay me for it, its still mine.
PS: Thank you to everyone who does read my special brand of writing. In a large part, you keep me from getting too far up my own arse or too far down the rabbit hole. Deeply appreciated.