“Unraveling the Enigma: What Defines a Writer in an Ever-Changing Literary Landscape?”
Have you ever felt like your words are sailing through an endless ocean of indifference, while other writers somehow find treasure in the depths? It’s a bittersweet truth: many talented authors never meet their audience, often held back by unfair circumstances or, worse yet, their own hesitations. In this heartfelt exploration, we dive into the tension between creative expression and the daunting world of publishing. The reality is stark: quitting is often why talented writers vanish without a trace. But what if the secret to staying afloat lies not in perfecting every phrase but in embracing the messy journey of writing? As we reflect on personal growth, authenticity, and the sway of creative tides, remember—your most genuine self is your most powerful tool. Ready for some enlightening insights? LEARN MORE.
THE RECKLESS WRITER
Somewhere in between misery and triumph you find the truth
I see a lot of very talented writers who never find an audience. Sometimes it’s because they are mistreated. Sometimes it’s because the world is inherently unfair. Sometimes it’s because they’re cheated.
But most of the time it’s because they quit.
Throughout the years I’ve managed to endure as a writer, I’ve tried to claim power over my creations. I deluded myself into thinking that I had control over what I said. I revised my words with meticulous care. I hoped my compositions would capture some semblance of beauty.
The illusion of control. Ha!
These days, I am less inclined to polish off the edges. I’ve come to think it doesn’t matter anyway. You can’t hide the essential you. The good and the bad all come bubbling through. Rather than spend your hours hopelessly editing, it might be a better strategy to pursue a path of personal and spiritual awakening.
Siphon out the evil from your heart — easier said than done. But if you show up and get to work every day, you might become a writer along the way. That’s like aiming for the moon and hitting a low hanging branch. But even a modest success allows you to speculate upon a greater one.
Writers passing like ships in the darkness
I’ve lived many days that would rank among the best days of other people. We’re surrounded by currents, and I’m a competent sailor. The trick is not to fight. Instead, accept whatever is meant to happen.
I remember a night in Barranco with my friend Tobias from Leipzig. Tobias wrote poems and sang Bon Jovi at karaoke. There were others too, and a bunch of girls that we’d met. I remember their smiling white teeth flashing in the darkness. I remember strands of black hair caressing their dimples.
They swayed.
The interior of the bar felt like a pirate ship. I sat in a creaky chair and pretended we were at sea. I had my drinks already, so the sensation of motion swelled up within me. I succumbed to the power of the waves.
