May 17, 2011
Sometimes I have to literally laugh out loud at my dreams of becoming a writer. It seems almost as random as having ambitions of being a professional fencer or fly-fisher. I mean sure it’s a beautiful craft to learn but who cares.
No one reads books anymore. No one has the patience. As a matter of fact there are very few people who will read a blog that is over 200 words. It becomes difficult to explain why I would invest money that I have never seen into an art form that will probably never pay me back. I am the first to admit that it was a completely illogical decision on my part; however, I have never really been a logical decision maker.
Writing is about passion. It’s about having the ability to wage guerilla warfare anytime I want. I don’t have to depend on politicking or incessant networking, all I need is something to write with. I’m not a member of a powerful church, I never pledged in any fraternity, and I wasn’t born into an influential family yet the ability to write gives me the unique ability to move on my own.
I once heard Amiri Baraka say “writing is a very lonely enterprise.” At the time I didn’t realize how true his words were but even if I did they wouldn’t have altered my path. There is nothing stronger than an individual who is not afraid of standing alone. A person who refuses to follow yet does not wish to lead; a person who belongs to self.