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I’ve always been obsessed with books, with reading, with writing. The moment I figured out it was possible for a mere mortal to write books, and “authors” weren’t some special, mythical creature, I wanted to become one. It is what I am.
In spite of that, since yesterday, I’ve been wondering if there is really much point to writing. The events in Newtown, Connecticut are what set me thinking. As a writer, I can’t do a single thing to stop such tragedies, to help the victims – and I’m sure words are thin comfort to the survivors. I read a piece Holly Lisle wrote on the web once, about how we can’t change the world with our work, and we shouldn’t even try. For the most part, I agree with her. But right now, I want to change the world. At least in this one thing; that no one could ever again imagine, even for a moment, that a killing spree was anything but a dreadful, horrible, evil idea. And I can’t do that. The people who watch news like this and feel ‘inspired’ :sick: by it would not want to read anything I wrote, and even if they did, if they aren’t already sickened by what happened, I doubt I could drive it home any better.
So writing just seems so useless to me right now. I’m hoping this is temporary. I’m still plugging away, putting words on the page; I don’t really know what else to do. And I suppose, if I can’t do anything else, there’s no point in allowing someone like that to destroy my writing along with everything else they’ve done. That won’t help anyone, either. I’m just wondering if anyone else has ever faced this kind of crisis. Have you ever looked at what you’re doing and thought, “What’s the use? I can’t do the things that really matter.”
The awful part is that writing really does matter to me, usually. But in the face of something like this, it seems so insignificant, so pointless. What good are my stories with twenty kids lying dead in pools of blood? (I don’t mean to dismiss the adults; they matter too. But it just seems so much worse when we’re talking about little kids.)
Deep down inside, I’ve always written for the one person who’ll come away from my story (or stories) with a changed perspective. I’d like to think my writing might touch the mind of someone like the person who killed those children and maybe prevent them doing something similar.
Ashe Elton Parker
"Just love me, fear me, do as I say, and I will be your slave." ~ David Bowie as Jareth in Labyrinth
~*~
Member since 1998.
~*~I almost gave up on writing once.
Then I read a book that was so incredible and that hit me so hard that I was rocked to my core. I got it then very clearly. I can’t even explain why that book hit me that way but it did. I realized that if I don’t write whoever needs the book I’m writing that would like it that much will never see it.
It might not help in situations like that. But it could very well help someone trying to escape a terrible situation of a different sort that uses books to escape the real world they can’t face. There are a lot of bad situations that having a good imagination and escaping into books are a way of keeping sane. So you might not help the ones you wish you could reach right now but I will never again sit there and think that I won’t ever reach anyone that needs it.
(Now I just need to give myself the same pep talk every day).
Thinking about what you wrote I was trying to get my mind around the difficulty of getting into the mind of killers; both those who do it in the mass and those who do single killings and all those in between.
Then re-reading bits of what you said it occurred to me that you might never know the impact of what you’ve written. Charles dickens is burried in Westminster Abbey. There were far better writers than he was, but it was his approach to societal ills that made him famous enough to get that honour.
Then further to that my convoluted thnking made me realise that there are reasons dictatorial societies tend to have book burnings, and why books get banned. Writers put themelves into books and ordinary people get ideas.
Who knows, possibly I’d hate everything you write, but I do urge you to carry on, even if you never see any results.
“Life, the universe and everything”, “Through the looking glass”, “Robot”. All of these phrases started on the pen of someone who was writing fiction, and now they are not only part of our language, they are part of the way we think.
Also writing a fictional treatment of something terrible can help people to adjust, because it can bring out into the open emotions that would otherwise be concealed. Years ago I wrote a short story about terrorists planting a bomb on the London Underground. This was long before the actual 7/7 attacks. In it I tried to come to terms with how a real person feels about a terrorist.
I couldn’t see any way out. If we tackled Ahmed together or singly he’d kill us with the automatic and the bomb would go off. If we did nothing it’d go off anyway. Whatever happened London was going to die in five hours time
I’d never believed in any sort of religion. I’d not been able to go along with the sort of God who’d condemn someone to an eternity in hell, whatever they’d done. Only now I wasn’t so sure.
I’d just seen the point of hell. If, as the last few seconds ticked away, when it was all too late, Ahmed suddenly knew that he was on the edge of the pit, that he’d burn in agony for ever, it’d still be less than he deserved.
I only hoped God would let me drop in from time to time and stoke the furnace.
Why was Ahmed doing this? If I could only get a handle on his motives perhaps I could do something, talk him into making a fatal mistake. Was there something he wanted?
I knew what he wanted. He wanted to kill people, sate his ego in an orgy of blood, ride to heaven on a tidal wave of innocent victims. I couldn’t do anything with that.I think it’s the initial reaction to the event. It probably isn’t helped by the excessive media coverage, with every news outlet jumping on and making sure they’ve got the story out there, again and again and again. Everything gets reported on and then repeated, so it becomes a knife’s point. I don’t think they realize the impact this constant barrage has on people. I’ve been having to turn off the radio when the topic comes up because I don’t want to get sucked into it.
I live in Washington, DC, and was here on 911. I could walk out to the curb and see smoke coming from the Pentagon. When I went to National Guard duty, I had to pass the Pentagon and see the very visible reminder of what had happened. It was a huge shock, and I was numb for weeks. Everyone in this area was. Then, about two weeks later, we all collectively emerged from our shock and started assuming normal things again. Life will go on.
Thanks to everyone who replied to this. I think you all made some excellent points, and your comments helped. In the end, though, I worked this out myself.
What the killer did was an act of pure destruction, of ‘anti-creation’, if you will. I hope I might one day have a positive effect on the world in a very real sense, but what I do by writing is an act of creation. So as shaken up as I still am, I choose not to let someone who poured all their efforts into destruction succeed in destroying my will to create. I don’t know if I’m expressing this very well, but just by writing, I am making an active choice to defy those who turn to killing and destruction. Yes, I have other reasons for wanting to write – as I said in my original post, that desire has always been a part of me – but after a little time thinking it over, this is my response.
I choose creation over destruction. Being imperfect, my efforts to create may not be all I’d like them to be, but they’re still better than the alternative.
Not to belittle any of the things that have happened recently, but something always happens and always will happen. There are terrible things happening every day in small and large numbers, and this has been true since the beginning of mankind.
People still write because they transcend beyond the worst of what we are to be something different. If you decide that the horrific actions of others will stop you from writing, then ask yourself why. Their actions will change you because we are all affected by what they’ve done. However, you have to decide how they change you. If anyone thinks they should give up writing (of any sort) after this, then they need to ask themselves why they think that will make a change in the world. How will your not writing make this better? It won’t. However, you might still have a chance to write something that can touch others in the future. Don’t give up the possibility that you can still make a change for the better.
zette wrote:Not to belittle any of the things that have happened recently, but something always happens and always will happen. There are terrible things happening every day in small and large numbers, and this has been true since the beginning of mankind.People still write because they transcend beyond the worst of what we are to be something different. If you decide that the horrific actions of others will stop you from writing, then ask yourself why. Their actions will change you because we are all affected by what they’ve done. However, you have to decide how they change you. If anyone thinks they should give up writing (of any sort) after this, then they need to ask themselves why they think that will make a change in the world. How will your not writing make this better? It won’t. However, you might still have a chance to write something that can touch others in the future. Don’t give up the possibility that you can still make a change for the better.
You’re right. I’d already decided that before I even had a chance to read your post.
I think I was just depressed because, at that moment, everything I could do with my writing seemed so feeble. And perhaps it is. I’m not going to claim I’m such a great writer that I can be sure of making a difference. (I’d like to be, but that sort of judgment is for others to make.) But I will say that it is better to do your best, however feeble it is, to go on creating, than any of the alternatives. At least, that’s the choice I’m making. If destruction and killing appalls me, what better response than to create?
I choose creation over destruction.
That is exactly how I feel about it, though I couldn’t find the words. I haven’t been able to write lately, but I can still create in other ways, and I hope to lift someone’s spirits with my little creations.
Happy writing,
Deb Salisbury
The Mantua-Maker, Quality Historical Sewing Patterns and Books
www.mantua-maker.comThe Art of the Hoop: 1860 - 1869, Dress, Sewing, and Clothing Care Advice
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http://www.djsalisburybooks.com/Dead-Wizard-s-Loot.htmlWandering Author wrote:The people who watch news like this and feel ‘inspired’ :sick: by it would not want to read anything I wrote, and even if they did, if they aren’t already sickened by what happened, I doubt I could drive it home any better.Not entirely true.
There’s a blog post that has been floating around in response to the tragedy, “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother”. There has been a lot of response to it from people who are mentally ill and have gone through periods in their lives where other people felt they were a risk. Mind that people with mental illnesses are statistically speaking at high risk of abuse — most of the people I have seen talk about this were dealing with not only a mental illness, which is (from experience) awful when combined with all the normal teenage crap, but also frequently with abusive family or school.
Something that has come up a lot, not necessarily in these response posts, but in comments, is that for many, books were a way of escape that helped them get through that period of their lives. I’m honestly not sure if I would have made it to adulthood without my books. (And if I had, I would certainly be all the more screwed up for it, considering the uber-conservative religious phase my dad went through.)
I’m on some fan related “secrets” community based on the Post Secret project. Something that comes up commonly, at least once a week, are people talking about how books, or other forms of storytelling, have kept them alive — because even when everything else in their life had gone to shit, they could hold onto “But I haven’t read the next book.”
You do more good than you think.
This reminded me of someone I knew who survived a very abusive childhood. What got him through was reruns of Lost in Space. It’s whatever works.
Nonny wrote:Wandering Author wrote:The people who watch news like this and feel ‘inspired’ :sick: by it would not want to read anything I wrote, and even if they did, if they aren’t already sickened by what happened, I doubt I could drive it home any better.Not entirely true.
There’s a blog post that has been floating around in response to the tragedy, “I Am Adam Lanza’s Mother”. There has been a lot of response to it from people who are mentally ill and have gone through periods in their lives where other people felt they were a risk. Mind that people with mental illnesses are statistically speaking at high risk of abuse — most of the people I have seen talk about this were dealing with not only a mental illness, which is (from experience) awful when combined with all the normal teenage crap, but also frequently with abusive family or school.
Something that has come up a lot, not necessarily in these response posts, but in comments, is that for many, books were a way of escape that helped them get through that period of their lives. I’m honestly not sure if I would have made it to adulthood without my books. (And if I had, I would certainly be all the more screwed up for it, considering the uber-conservative religious phase my dad went through.)
I’m on some fan related “secrets” community based on the Post Secret project. Something that comes up commonly, at least once a week, are people talking about how books, or other forms of storytelling, have kept them alive — because even when everything else in their life had gone to shit, they could hold onto “But I haven’t read the next book.”
You do more good than you think.
I hadn’t thought of that. Actually, books saved my life and my sanity more than once – but in spite of that, when I posted, I wasn’t thinking of that. So thanks for reminding me.
A good part of your post could fit my life, in fact. I feel foolish for not even thinking of that, although on the other hand, under the fresh weight of such a tragedy I am not really ashamed to say my mind wasn’t working well.In fact, after I finally figured out what was “wrong” with me – I grew up undiagnosed but on the autism spectrum, which was not unusual in the 1960s – I realised just how much books had helped me. They didn’t just give me a refuge from all the garbage in my life, they gave me a window on the world that helped me figure that world out. I love books.
In my agony, contemplating the recent tragedy, all I could think of was that I could do nothing to stop something like that. And what I meant was, the kind of person who would see a mass shooting on the news and decide they wanted to copy it is not going to find anything I write worth reading. Because even in the very few cases where I think violence, as a last resort, is justified (the only example that comes to mind right now is fighting the Nazis), even then, I see that violence as terrible, an immense tragedy. But, yes, even if I can never reach anyone who would be inclined to become a mass murderer, I can still do a lot of good with my writing.
I think that’s one lesson I can take away from this. A narrow focus is never a very accurate one. As much as I still feel such a tragedy can’t help but overwhelm me when it first happens, that’s not the moment when I’m going to make good judgments. Don’t get me wrong – if I knew how to stop such incidents from happening, I’d happily stop them. But that is not the only thing that matters. And your post really made me stop and think, because even after I’d decided to keep writing – and despite the fact I could have written almost word for word much of what you said, and it would be perfectly true – I actually didn’t think of the point you made. It is sobering to think that I was so blinded by my horror and despair even a conclusion that should have been obvious to me, since it applies to me, managed to escape me completely. That makes me wonder just how much more I miss when I don’t think things through carefully.
Linda Adams wrote:This reminded me of someone I knew who survived a very abusive childhood. What got him through was reruns of Lost in Space. It’s whatever works.Hell, yeah! When I watched the show I would have liked to be a member of the Robinson family (I was just the right age to enjoy LOS during its initial run). They were supportive of each other, they got to have adventures on alien planets and then go home to their cozy bed cubicles at night, and they had so much positive energy that they influenced Dr. Smith to be a better human being.
Plus, it would have been cool to hang out with Will and the robot…
Wandering Author wrote:In fact, after I finally figured out what was “wrong” with me – I grew up undiagnosed but on the autism spectrum, which was not unusual in the 1960s – I realised just how much books had helped me. They didn’t just give me a refuge from all the garbage in my life, they gave me a window on the world that helped me figure that world out. I love books.Sympathies there! I have bipolar, generalized anxiety disorder, and they are not sure if it is ADD or Asperger’s in my case. (Suspect Asperger’s, but finding specialists that diagnose adults is difficult.) It doesn’t help that Asperger’s in women presents very differently than in men, for the most part.
Quote:But, yes, even if I can never reach anyone who would be inclined to become a mass murderer, I can still do a lot of good with my writing.And I think what I was trying to say was that, no, you’re not likely to help someone who is on the edge of doing that — but who that, without anything positive in their lives, anything to make them think and feel less alone, like maybe the world isn’t totally against them (because of the people I know who have commented that they were very violent as children or young adults, all had abuse histories and NO support from ANYONE — more than one commented it was books that helped them hold onto “Yes there are decent people in the world and there is more to life than this”). If that makes sense? It won’t help the ones on the edge, likely, but the ones whose paths are starting to head in that direction, maybe.[/quote]
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