Sitting by Yourself and Lower Back Distress

The Case for Writing (Even if You Stink at It)

Among the many cash-cow trends in the country, the “self-help” genre seems to be especially popular. Everyone out there who has ever done something is willing to bestow onto you — for a nominal fee, of course — their wisdom and advice. It seems that social media and the rise of the most useless “profession” in the world — the “influencer” — has spiraled this completely out of control.

Before you know it, you too can: lose 20/30/100 pounds, learn a new language, quit smoking, quit drinking, regrow hair, manipulate the stock market, discover your inner child, be a better parent, go back to school, make cute clothes out of old curtains, become a bat-themed vigilante, reduce your carbon footprint, or even take over the world with your multi-level marketing proposal (also known as a pyramid scheme). The possibilities of the world are endless and available to you in a series of easy payments, plus shipping and processing.

Right now, however, you are in luck. I have discovered the free (or at least very cheap) and easy way to both improve yourself and teach yourself a valuable life skill and I am not going to charge you a cent. Writing. I know; you’re shocked, and you are welcome.

This subject is a common one — this website alone has dozens, if not hundreds, of pieces on the same thing. Accordingly, some of you are most likely annoyed and a little skeptical that writing is a great skill you can use to improve your life. How can something learned in the early years of education prove to be anything more than a simple day-to-day exercise in muscle memory?

Sure, there are plenty of people out there who have made successful careers out of the written word; great writers, thinkers, orators and academics who towered over the intellectual landscape amidst a sea of brilliantly constructed prose and poetry. They have altered our collective consciousness and improved the human condition. The foundation of the United States, for example, is set forth and bound the Declaration of Independence; one of the most brilliant pieces of political treason ever put to pen.

But those people were and are geniuses, you say. How can the other 95% of us possibly find any purpose in writing? The answer, like so many things, is varied and simple. Allow me to explain, as best I can, the merits of writing, especially as someone who writes but isn’t a writer per se. Most of the people telling you to write are the aforementioned established and prolific individuals who actually make money from this. While that does give them a degree of authority on the subject, the reality is that most of us are not going to make a living from our words. That in no way means that writing isn’t for you. In fact, I would say that is actually an even more compelling reason to start writing.

People are naturally curious. We have questions and want answers. We constantly analyze and rationalize our way through the issues of our lives. Our attempts to understand ourselves occupies much of our free time. For some, it is more than leisure or a thought project. For some, it is a calling. Writers, artists, musicians, and academics look to understand ourselves, our histories, and our cultures, in order to understand how we think, act, and might improve ourselves and our society. We all have ideas. We all have thoughts and opinions and we want to express those ideas with others. Conversation is a fundamental part of being a functional, interactive member of society. Talking to other people is how we learn and exchange ideas. It is how we discover our interests, make friends, meet lovers. Words are what allow us to connect, and connection with another person is the quintessence of being human.

Now, how does this relate to writing? For many of us, we have a twofold problem with conversation. The first problem is that we often react too quickly and emotionally which does not always do us credit nor does it give us adequate time to truly weigh the options of the issue at hand. It isn’t necessarily a bad thing to have an immediate and emotional reaction to something. Where that instinctual response can lead you astray is if it is not well-thought out or is directed inappropriately. Talking is therefore not the best way for most people to organize their own thoughts and to take stock of their own opinions. What makes writing so great for that exact purpose is that it takes longer for us to write than to speak. Most people can talk a mile a minute but when pressed to write, the pace is decidedly slower. What this slower pace does is it allows us to focus more intently on what we are saying. We think of what we are writing and our brains slow down to match the speed of our hands. This pace makes it possible for us to realize what we are thinking before we put it down.

It also allows us the opportunity for a more inclusive and holistic perspective of ourselves. If we give a speech or engage in a verbal conversation — short of having a transcript or a recording — we are incapable of viewing the entirety of our comments and tracking our own thought processes. By writing, however, that is a luxury that we can afford; it is easy and often insightful to go back and re-read our own writing, to see how our thoughts progressed and how well our argument was constructed, thus providing us with a greater and more substantial perspective on both the topic at hand and ourselves. Sometimes even simply seeing your thoughts on paper can make you pause and think “Did I really say that?” This self-awareness is not always readily available to us when we talk.

The other issue is that some of us are not great conversationalists and find ourselves either intimidated by those with whom we speak or perhaps become too confrontational to have a proactive debate (don’t believe me; watch Fox News or Meet The Press and tell me that their “expert” panels aren’t just yelling and insulting each other all the time). Nothing is accomplished when opposing sides — or even allies — simply yell at each other, waving insults and vying for the spotlight.

Confrontation is not the same as discourse, brow-beating not the same as reporting. People often get caught in traps of conservation where we focus on only the first thing or last thing heard and either ignore or forget the middle. The result is that we do not acquire the essence of the argument at hand and in effect are left with nothing substantial.

What writing allows us to do is to see everything the other side said; every word, every phrase, every point. This in turn permits us to reply in a much more comprehensive and nuanced way; one that furthers the conversation while simultaneously respecting the effort of the other side.

So writing is good for us. It’s productive. That’s great. “But Brad; I haven’t had to write more than a greeting card note or grocery list since I was in school. My handwriting stinks. I’m not an academic. Writers are misunderstood, tortured souls and writing is for naturally creative types; I’m none of those things! Besides, who would want to read my writing?”

All good questions. Some generalizations there but sound observations nonetheless. And common responses, too. I’ve heard such reasons and questions from my students, particularly from my students who are studying what we call the STEM subjects. When you are not required to do something, it is often hard to find a reason to do it. Why spend the time? “And even if I was interested, how would I start? How do I go about becoming a writer?

Excellent question. Let’s start here.

Read, a lot. Magazines, articles, essays, poetry, fiction, non-fiction, whatever; read something that is from a vetted source and by someone who is knowledgeable on their topic (this is easier to do than you might think; with access to the internet, a person’s credentials are a quick internet search away). Reading exposes us to ideas as well as (hopefully) good grammar and vocabulary. Read, read, read. The only way to expose yourself to good writing is to read some.

Now good is clearly an arbitrary association that implies taste, preference, and is overall subjective, right? Well, not entirely. While writing is art and art is inherently subjective, there are instances where a person can detect what is clearly bad writing. If the writing is clunky and poorly organized, it likely is not some postmodernist artistic choice; it’s probably just bad. If the writer overuses foreign words, or sounds like they are choking on a thesaurus, it’s not a sign of a deep and pondering intelligence; it’s just someone being an asshole. All art is good and bad. Or not. This is not going to be a discussion on the value and quality of art, but I am going to suggest that some degree of discretion be exercised in what you read. Don’t buy your books at the airport and generally avoid the “History” section at Barnes & Noble.

What does this have to do with writing? Everything. Reading quality writing is undoubtedly a way to improve your own: it expands vocabulary, sharpens grammar, starts a conversation with new ideas, and forces readers to think of their place in a larger world. This, in turn, can facilitate better writing. Reading how a writer describes scenery, constructs dialogue, or constructs a thesis-driven argument, can influence how you approach your own writing. I am not advocating or suggesting plagiarism or even mimicry. It is important to do what so many talking heads and writing hands have advocated for years; find your own voice.

Believe it or not, you can find your voice in the words of someone else. Read something that excites you, or angers you. Finding something that resounds with you can be what pushes you to find your interest or your writer’s spark. What I am saying is that: one of the best ways to learn a skill is to watch it done by someone with expertise. Writing is no exception; if you want to learn how to write, and to write well, read the work of good writers.

After you start reading good writers, fiction or non-fiction, it is important to start writing. At first, you are not writing a finished product. In fact, most of what you write at first will probably be thrown away or heavily edited to the point of being almost unidentifiable. At best, you’ll have snippets of prose or small passages that you’ll seek to use later. Not only is this likely, it is possibly the most important part of the process. Writing is a skill. As a skill it must be practiced. Some people are naturally talented. Like athletes who are naturally born taller, faster, or stronger, there are people who are born with a naturally ability to use words. These are the people for whom writing is not simply a skill but a calling. But even these people practice. Athletes lift weights and run sprints; writers write.

Writing as an exercise is as important as writing to complete a project. It forces the brain to work and allows the mind to be creative. However, when it comes to the actual act of writing, most people experience serious issues getting started. They sit at the computer, open the notebook, and despite their best intentions and desires…nothing happens. People use the excuse of “writer’s block,” a lazy idea used as an excuse to dick around. Generally, the only thing that ever blocks a writer is the writer.

There are, I think, a few main reasons why people have a difficult time writing. First and foremost is, I think, a lack of self-confidence in traditional writing and the validity of their opinions. People think that the first words the put to paper need to be award-winning, which is a challenging way to approach writing. Writing for fun and exercise does not even always need to make sense in the beginning, let alone finely polished.

The result is that when people attempt to write — I see this a lot in the essays of my students — they hold back. They don’t venture out. They self-censor and limit expression. They are afraid of being told that their ideas, their feelings, their experiences of the world, are wrong, or facile, or stupid. They fear rejection. It is important to realize that you will not endear yourself to everyone. There will always be someone who does not like your writing, your opinion, your idea. Which is fine. Your goal is not to appeal yourself to a wide audience (although this is ideal if you are a writer by trade and looking to publish) but to satisfy your own intellectual needs and be true to your own voice and ideas. Like singing in the shower or dancing in the living room, no one needs to necessarily see your writing, especially in its early stages; you can write for yourself.

The second is criticism. Do not be afraid of criticism. However, be aware of the difference between what is constructive and what is destructive. One of my favorite pieces of writing advice comes from the movie Finding Forrester. Sean Connery’s character, a reclusive but famous writer, says “You write your first draft with your heart.” Hammering the point home, he rhetorically asks the young hero, played excellently by Rob Brown, (and I’m paraphrasing) “why the words we write for ourselves are never as good as the words we right for others?” Just superb.

The last barrier that I think keeps people from writing is the perception that writing is lazy, elitist, or even a dishonest way to past your time or even make a living. This is one issue that I sometimes struggle with as well. My firmly middle-class and Midwestern background — my dad is a steelworker and my mom is a nurse back in Ohio— sometimes clashes with the realities of my life. I’m an academic by trade and training. I have two Master’s and am about to finish my PhD. At our core, academics are essentially writers. Especially historians.

And there are times, if I am being honest, that even I think that writing is a dishonest way to make a living. Much of our collective American identity is constructed around a certain concept of labor. A workday was 8+ hours of standing, lifting, and using your body, being on your feet.

It’s assumed that there is a degree of dishonesty in creative or artistic work. Writing almost certainly fits into this criticized category of work. Writers are often seen as deadbeats; lazy individuals who stay out and get up late, loiter in cafes and bars, talk with their hands, and sweat only from their armpits and never from their brows.

With the exception of the “lazy” accusation, all of these things are true. A simple Google search on “habits of famous writers” leads to numerous websites where you can see how various writers approach the craft. Writing is a discipline that requires constant attention and effort. The best writers don’t take off days. They write every day. They edit every day. Some writers will struggle for days with one sentence or word, using every possible option and combination of words to construct the right sentiment. I’d strongly recommend On Writing by Stephen King (yes, THAT Stephen King, leave your pretension at the door) who discusses exactly that.

Inspiration is the first part for many writers in what is loosely called “the creative process.” But what is it? One part of it is research. Most writers, novelists, essayists, academics, do a considerable amount of research. Some writers simply come up with ideas and write, but largely the writing process of also one of writing. I travel to an archives, explore resources, compile information, organize it, form an argument...it can be a lot.

My work also will go through a series of peer edits, which is equally important. These editors not only will look for grammar, structure, syntax, etc, but will also critically pushback on my argument, forcing me to consider different sources, arguments, and perspectives. Most people see this aspect as one that is not creative, as it is so regimented in its process. For many, this would qualify as work but it is an essential part of the creative process.

In my own rambling way, I’ve been going through a lot of the realities of being a writer and why writing is a beneficial activity: why it’s good for you to do, how reading is the first step, how inspiration is attained, how the process of writing is complex and multifaceted, and the difference between writing fiction and non-fiction, especially in the world of academia. A lot of what I said seems contradictory. While that is possibly a reflection of my own stream-of-consciousness approach to thinking, I’d like to think that it is partially an honest reflection of how writing is intensely personal, abstract, and has no concrete process or characteristics. Much like taste in literature, music, movies, or food is personal and subjective, writing and how to be a writer is personal, not formulaic. There is not a set “Step 1, Step 2, Step 3…” approach to writing that you can always take. But there are ways to approach the process and reasons to try that are not related to any question of skill or know-how.

Even if no one ever reads, or is likely to read, your material, that is fine. No one has to. No one has to read a single word of your text in order for writing to mean something to you, to do something for you. People write for themselves on the time. Journals and diaries have been around for centuries. Published diaries and journals have in them deep, personal secrets that the author likely never intended for public use. Why is that? Why write something down where, in theory, it could be preserved for a long time when simply saying it aloud allows it to disappear?

Perhaps the most common reason why it can be better to write down words or feelings is that somethings are hard to say aloud. We all fear judgement and reprisal from others. Certain things are just too personal to say to someone face to face. But by keeping that feeling completely internal, keeping in your mind or in your heart, can make the issue worse. In writing down our fears, concerns, emotions in general, we can have our cake and eat it, too; we can keep the words private, away from prying and judging eyes, while simultaneously getting the words out of us and into the world, even if “the world” is as small as a journal under a pillow or a doc on a computer.

Keep a small notebook and something to write with. That’s one that I definitely recommend. I often find myself thinking about something during the day only to realize that sitting at my desk at work is not the best time to muse about the economic stimulus, dragons wearing leotards, or the Great American Novel. By having a notebook handy, you can always jot down your thought so that it is preserved to later.

I keep 3 different notebooks in my bag at all times. One is for taking notes at lectures, conferences, and other academic talks, something that is a big part of my career as a grad student. I have one that is purely for my dissertation. I use it for taking notes at archives. I keep track of books I’ve read, sources I’ve found or need to find. I even will sit and write about my dissertation, thinking about the trajectory of my work and considering what I’ve done or what I will do. My last notebook is much more general. I write down random little thoughts and observations. If I have an idea for a piece, I jot it down. I sleep with this notebook on my bedside table. I have a series of these books, all full of prospective essays, stories, segments and sections.

I am a devotee of Moleskine and Moleskine-style notebooks. I love them. I picked up the habit from a professor of mine who always used them or some similar classic black notebook. They hold up well — which is important if you plan on keeping your notes around — and, if I’m being honest, they’re just cool. But anything will do.

For this kind of writing, I exclusively write in pen. I know that a lot of people like using pencils because you can erase and they do not smear, stain or run. But there is something intrinsic about writing in pen. It adds depth to your words, as if the deep impressions on the paper are somehow more lasting and therefore more personal. The permanence of ink on paper is especially helpful when working on early drafts. With a pen, crossing out seems messy. It’s harder to make clean edits in a text with pen. Maybe I’m bust a weird, old-school kind of guy, but I am an advocate of pens. Especially fancy pens.

Be open. This suggestion has a double meaning. First, realize that writing is an intensely personal activity, especially when you are writing your own thoughts, experiences and opinions. Don’t lie to yourself when you write; if you think, feel it, saw it, heard it or did it, then you can and should write it! Don’t allow yourself the indecency of self-censorship. It is dishonest and will lead to writing that does not truly reflect you. It’s bad enough that other people lie to us; we don’t need to lie to ourselves.

The second meaning is that, if you want people to read it, know that people are going to hate it. Right now, accept that truth and embrace it. People will have different opinions on everything from grammar and style to subject matter and perspective (you probably hate this although I suspect you would’ve stopped before getting here). The best thing to do is to have people read it who are good writers, who are well-read, and who know you. Even the best writers had proof-readers.

Be sure to enjoy yourself. Writing should be a fun activity that helps you grow and develop as a person. It does not need to be some lofty, faux-artsy (or what I call “fartsy”) elitist activity. Anyone and everyone can do it if they so choose. If you find that writing is just a pain in the ass and time which could be spent doing something else, then quit. That’s fine. But if it’s not, if it’s something that appeals to you, that you enjoy, then do it. Have fun with it. Do it as often as you can, and write, as always, about what interests you.

Be prepared for some lower-back distress; you’ll be sitting a lot, likely hunched over.