An Attempt

I’ve been reading The Art of the Personal Essay, a thick collection of essays from across history, assembled by Phillip Lopate, in an attempt to unstick whatever has stuck in my brain that prevents me from expressing myself. The book has encouraged me so far, and I’ve loosened up a little bit. I’ve realized that I don’t have to write only about technical things.

This quote from Joan Didion really appeals to me:

I write entirely to find out what I’m thinking, what I’m looking at, what I see and what it means.

I feel like I spend too much time in my own head, but going nowhere. Putting thoughts to paper seems like the way out of this mess. I can write a thought down and it doesn’t evaporate. Then there’s the ability to edit and structure these thoughts. I just don’t have the capability to do that in my head. So, I’m going to make an effort, as long as I may have the energy, to write more often; to write anything.

I have quibbles about doing this. Foremost is that I don’t write much beyond basic internet conversation, and I worry, if I attempt any “flair” or style, that I may come across as somehow inauthentic, even pretentious. Or just weird. Words don’t come naturally to me and I don’t read enough good prose to inspire me. Perhaps by changing the latter, and by writing more, I can make an impact on the former. And who cares if someone thinks I’m weird. I am weird. I am also a bit pretentious. I guess this means I am already being authentic.

My second quibble is with being perceived. I hate being perceived. I’m embarassed to be out in public. Writing something and putting it out on the internet means I open another avenue through which I may be percieved. So this is actually an act of vulnerability and you have to be nice to me.