Capturing Chaos

Writing is a perfect example of something you’re encouraged to do because you do it well. As too many prodigies have found, to their profound regret, the pressures to forge careers out of talents can lead to lives of frustration rather than fulfillment. The simple truth is that the possession of an ability doesn’t always bring with it the enjoyment of using it, much less the desire to devote a lifetime to it.

No talent stands in isolation. The talented violinist must perform publicly, must tour, must make him or herself a somewhat public person. Every career comes with requirements which have nothing to do with the original talent, and which may be difficult or even objectionable.

Even for someone with a small talent and small ambitions, there can be unpleasant factors to deal with and costs that may seem too much to pay. Somewhere along the line, you may even realize that you were looking at the talent in the wrong way. The violinist may decide that he wants to write music for the violin rather than play it.

I used to wonder why so many writers admitted to hating writing, but I’m beginning to understand. Writing itself is just a container for something else, and no matter how skilled you are at it, it can’t exist in a vacuum. There has to be something you want to write, badly enough that you’re willing to go through the labor that writing involves. It isn’t just about words; it’s about the right words, and the right medium. The poet deals with the music of words and the subtleties of the meaning of words. The essayist deals with ideas.

And that’s my sticking point, my source of conflict. I’ve always been a decent writer, and over the years, I’ve become better at it. But it’s not the writing I care about; it’s what it conveys. My life is about ideas and the complexities involved in trying to understand the world. And the pay for that kind of writing, unless you’re well known, is crap. Very few people care about ideas. The pay is good for telling people how to manage their lives or for feel-good emotional cliches. Learn SEO and you can make a fortune. Write about ideas that don’t rank high in Google, and you might just as well not bother.

The conflict is energy-draining and paralyzing, and I can’t really figure out how to get around or through it. For the moment, I’m going to indulge in an experiment. I’ll be posting lots and lots of quickie articles on a new site. I know what people like, what will attract them, and I’ll cater (pander, if you prefer) to that. Kittens and puppies, families and babies, all the cute trivialities that make money for those who know how to churn it out. Yes, my interim solution is cynicism and pandering. Happy new year!

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