Why Bother Writing? A Doubter’s Dilemma
A few weeks ago, I was talking to a friend of mine online who noticed my inability to focus on writing anything at all. She listened to be bitch for half an hour before asking me, “Why bother writing then?”
Why, indeed.
When it comes to facing my manuscripts, lately I’ve been filled with dread, doubt, and often I have been prone to sessions of inexplicable spiralling anxiety. If something causes me so much grief, why bother doing it in the first place? She had a point, after all.
Why write?
Why bother writing anything?
What drives a person to keep on writing?
If I’m being honest, my friend’s question felt more like a heinous interrogation. “You’re a writer too” I thought, “Do YOU know why you write?” and yet, I think she’s onto something.
If I spend so much time complaining about something, why am I still compelled to do it?
Well to answer that question, I think we need to turn the clock back a bit.
If you’ll forgive my mushy nostalgia for a moment, I promise that this will lead to a good point.
It started with a cheap video camera from Sears.
My aspirations of becoming a writer began when I was around 12. My Dad brought me to Sears in 1998 where we perused the electronics section. At the time, I had taken an interest in movies. After watching the rereleased and remastered Star Wars trilogy on VHS, my imagination got a hold of me and I was fascinated with the process that George Lucas had begun to conceptualize a new Star Wars Trilogy, highly anticipating the new release of The Phantom Menace.
After we purchased the camcorder, I spent many days over the summer making parody TV commercials and often recreated Halloween-Themed or Christmas-Themed short films with my cousins, referencing everything from The X-Files, Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol, and even creating an original flamboyant character (played by yours truly), with our mini series called The Life of Lance. Lance would partake in ridiculous frivolities like eating a Sugar-Covered-Banana every morning. Eat your heart out, Pee Wee Herman.
Writing movies was a form of escape.
Throughout high school I accelerated in the arts, with my drama, visual art, and communications/media courses. The more I studied concept art for film and TV, and the more I dived into the world of filmmaking, I began to obsessively watch the behind-the-scenes specials on all my DVDs.
I even went so far as to plan my own “fan film” based off the Matrix trilogy. My (very patient) Dad allowed me to take over one of the rooms in our basement, to build and design my own set for a “ship” based in the real world of the Matrix fandom. I never ended up shooting anything, because by then my cousins had lost interest in making movies with me, and I didn’t end up having anyone to help me out. After a month of the basement looking like a dystopian nightmare, my Dad’s patience was up, and I was ordered to dismantle the “movie set.”
But it was hard to shake off the feeling of wanting to create worlds to live in. Maybe as an escape from my lack of friendships, but ultimately it was about wanting to add a flare of the dramatic into every facet of my life.
Create a Manifesto.
Fast-forward to my University days, I learned that not everyone in my class had the same desires to make and write movies as I did. We also didn’t have a proper screenwriting course, so I helped campaign to start one. However, by the time I took my first screenwriting class, I had already read quite a few books on my down time from school, and knew most of the course material. The most valuable lesson, by far, was learned in Prof. Hartley’s short film course. She asked that same fundamental question, “why write and make movies?” and tasked us with writing out a ‘Filmmakers Manifesto’ as to why we were here to learn and create.
This exercise helped me realize that I really wanted to tell stories that connect. I wanted to tell stories that sparked an air of social change, and I felt like this was something I was destined to do.
So now I’m presented with the same question again.
Why BOTHER writing at all?
I’m constantly doubting myself, my skills, and my ability to be a good writer. Sometimes, this doubt paralyses me. I truly belief this may also be the root cause of any and all my writer’s block. I doubt my skills, and doubt kills all hope of even wanting to try.
Rather than feeling like a total enigma, I think if I take a good and honest look at myself, this question ‘why write’ feels like an interrogation because it shines a spotlight on a part of my life that I don’t like very much. The part of me that lacks focus, self discipline, and purpose needed to be fixed. It forced me to take a look at myself and reevaluate why it is I’m doing this.
So, if you’re having the same trouble as me, consider creating your own “Writer’s Manifesto!”
Here’s my latest manifesto, and I hope it helps you on your own journey as well:
I, Daniel Pike, hereby declare myself a writer, whose intentions (although occasionally misguided and clouded) are to entertain others, and spark that same level of joy and curiosity that I once felt as a child. If I should feel doubt in my ability, I will remind myself that all writers started somewhere. I want to inspire others to make better choices, to see joy and happiness in their lives, and hopefully, my writing can illuminate a path for others they had not yet considered.
