Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Is anyone else appalled at the false sense of intimacy that the internet creates? I like to go on-line and read other writers' blogs, and I'm struck by two things.

One: Isn't the point of having a writing blog the creation of new writing? I'm constantly amazed at some writers who feel the need to publish the most intimate details of their private life on the World Wide Web. All that matters is the writing you've created. My more cynical side wonders if writers spill their guts like this because they're afraid their writing isn't up to snuff, so they go for the pity audience. Or maybe, because of the false sense of intimacy that the Internet seems to suggest, they're able to say things in a "psuedo" anynomous way by blogging about it (but then they put their pictures or allow pictures of their children on line). And for the love of God, don't exploit your child's grief at the death of her mother for a buck, especially if you don't have the balls to confront your own grief at the lose of your wife.

Two: Some writers spend so much time on their blog talking about the book/play/screen play that they're working on that it makes you wonder when they have the time to devote to writing said book/play/screen play. Perhaps they have better time management skills than I have. I always think of the words of Master Yoda:

Do or Do not . . .there is no try.

You're not an aspiring writer, you're a writer. Don't sit there and blog about the great story you're going to write. Write the damn thing. Then write another one. Then another. Then another. Then another. And maybe, just maybe you'll get one you really like. It's not about the audience. Not about the publishers, or the critics. It's about the craft.

Enough. STFU Sheridan, and go write a God-Damn story.