So, I write a lot. On my own. In notebooks and Word files stashed away. I tell myself it’s for myself, that I’m not good enough to share it.
Also, I often tell myself it’s my work, for better or worse. I am writing it for myself.
I was again jarred from this narcissistic position when I read this exchange from the AV Club’s interview with director-provocateur Michael Haneke:
AV Club: There are artists whose attitude is “My work is my work, and if people see it or not, I have no control over that.” But your films seem to demand a response from the audience. The way people react to them is as much a part of the film as the object itself. How important is reaching an audience to you?
Michael Haneke: If a director says he doesn’t care how many people see his films at all, I simply don’t believe him. Otherwise why would he bother to make the film? The only explanation would be that it would be an act of masturbation. I think that every creator is looking for a receptor. He’s looking for an audience. There are two parts of the equation: a creator and, necessarily, the receiver of the work. It’s the same thing for a painter who wants his paintings to be seen. However, if you betray your principles in the hopes of reaching a wider audience, then that’s as fatal as betraying your belief. Even the most elitist director or author who claims that he doesn’t care if his works are seen or not, then I have to think that he’s either a liar or a hypocrite.
—
There was a time, I remember, that I wrote things for an audience, with the full intention of getting it “out there.” There was a moment where this ambition ceased, and I think it was because of some ridicule that was directed my way.
Also, because I didn’t think I was very good.
Both are silly reasons. Ridicule is to be expected. If I’m not good, I should get better. And writing something, and trying to write well, but never showing it to anyone is utter hypocrisy. Maybe writing for myself, and telling myself it’s only for me is, indeed, masturbation.
That sort of thing makes you go blind.
I struggle with this, too.
But obviously, I’m out-out-out there now.
It’s hard sometimes (I’ve certainly been the point of ridicule and certainly I’ve released shitty work and regretted it.)
I think the act of exposure is terrifying, invigorating and incredibly educational.
Also – you’re good. You know that, right?
xoh
Comment by Heidi Swift — December 30, 2009 @ 5:05 pm
Writing is a piece of the soul, put on display. It’s hard when someone doesn’t like it, or they notice a pimple or something and point it out.
Comment by uninvoked — December 30, 2009 @ 6:03 pm
I started blogging for a reason, I kept it up because it’s good for me. I’m the sort of person who should keep a journal, but would never be that disciplined, or that patient. Instead, I blog, which is rather like tellings stories, a series of them, that are only sort of connected.
I don’t particularly think of writing as having any more meaning than something I do with part of my day.
Comment by mrs.spit — December 30, 2009 @ 7:58 pm