I’ve often debated the usefulness of keeping a blog; as is probably evident by my number of posts. There was a time when I had my very own unique url over at Wordpress. I had picked out a generic template that seemed to have the least amount of aesthetic dissonance and was ready to author my first post. Then I deleted the entire thing and went back to editing page 52. People that know me might ask: “Tyler, you university-educated hipster! You’re an aspiring writer! Why wouldn’t you take any opportunity to publish your words? Even if it’s a single drop of water in the ocean of drivel that is the Internet, that’s still something, right?” Whoops, guess I gave away my opinion, didn’t I? In all seriousness, if I tried to self-publish any sort of fiction via a Web Log, I’d be competing with everyone else who has been entranced with the embarrassingly large amounts of money that certain “teenage romance” (pronounced with the same tone I would use to describe “country music” [to those whom I have not yet offended: don’t worry, I’m getting there]) series have been making lately, and have decided that there aren’t nearly enough knockoffs and imitations within the industry itself and extended the drudgery to new mediums. And the other way that one garners attention besides sculpting out alarmingly specific unrealized high school fantasies, is by having opinions. And not just any opinion; the more incendiary and controversial, the better. It takes a certain sort of pretentiousness to toss out one’s opinions on a regular basis, with the intention of inciting argument (I possess a different sort of pretentiousness, if you haven’t noticed already). It’s a different matter to raise public awareness on topics that most people would rather ignore, but there are just so many people that retread ground that has already been burned over and salted for the sake of attracting undue attention; i.e. blogs whose only purpose seems to be reinforcing a painfully obvious political agenda. To make a long story short, it’s not worth it to me to fight a losing battle on the Internet, especially when I don’t have a finished product in hand. I, of course, reserve the right to change my mind once projects begin to reach their completion; about fighting losing battles, that is.
While we’re on the subject, let’s talk more about writing. I’ve introduced myself to a number of people this semester and inevitably, upon learning that I’m soon to graduate, raise questions about my future plans. After I tell my charming inquisitor that I intend to pursue writing after the completion of my education, the next question undoubtedly is: “What kind of writing?” After I reply that I intend to write fiction, there’s usually a silence, after which we move on to other things. It’s a little disappointing that no one seems to have any idea what to say to that sort of thing. Maybe it’s one of those aspirations that you’re not actually supposed to tell anyone about until you’re already famous. Summer tells me that I get a lot of questions as to why I’m writing, rather than pursuing a career in whatever it is that people do these days; it must be lucrative though, since everyone is doing it. However, I’m not in it for the money, obviously; otherwise I’d already be pumping out a trashy romance series, since everybody seems to love those. I’m doing this because I like it; and because I believed all the advice, that everyone from my generation apparently ignored, about making a career out of something that I love. And also, this isn’t really something I can do as a side project; at least not the way I write. One particular side project has been going on for 5 years and I’ve just hit the 100 page mark in Word. Based on the current production level, I might be finished by the time I’m 40.
I guess this post hasn’t been a total waste of time. It’s actually been more illuminating than I actually thought possible. Some of you may be thinking that I have a bit of an axe to grind. Which is more or less true. What I pursue may very well be a dying career. Perhaps in 20 years my kind will be reduced to posting our works on Facebook 2.0 and spamming friends for donations. That day may yet come; but for now, I’m not ready to delete everything and shuffle quietly into the office without a fight.
End obligatory mission statement.
