I just finished reading Dae’s post at Sadistic Excess.
It left me in an oddly weepy mood. Not because he’s going to take his writing down, or because he’s decided to embark on something new. I think it made me sort of ashamed. He, like a number of other bloggers I know, is very honest.
I don’t tell you much about who I am, or what I do, or who I love. The ‘I’ in my stories is seldom me. Of course, all writers leave traces of themselves in their work but – let’s face it – I’m pretty selfish. I’m like one of those store-bought salt shakers with the rotating top that offers sprinkles or a stream but never actually lets you take the top off.
I could excuse myself by saying that my work and my writing aren’t compatible, but that doesn’t really fly. People manage to be very honest about their lives without actually revealing their identity. So, I’m not going to use that excuse.
I’ve always been an intensely inward person. People often admire this, or consider it politely self-contained, but don’t buy it; it’s a venal blend of cowardice and selfishness. And I wish I could blame these nasty aspects of my personality on others – I wish I could say that I’d been cruelly rejected or judged harshly or terminally unloved – offer you some legitimate reason for my lack of disclosure. I don’t have one. It’s just the way I’m built; I’m undeniably Victorian.
So, let us celebrate those among us who are healthier and more generous. Those who chronicle their lives and their loves and their true feelings. I know it’s very fashionable at the moment to belittle those who ‘tell the story of who they are’ in their blogs. But it is a great generosity. It invites a sense of relatedness. It allows people to come away realizing they are not the isolated oddballs they thought they were.
I hope that, even though I don’t name you, you can see the ghost of your form, the echo of your impact on me in at least some of what I write. I know it is often very hard to discern, but I promise you – you are there.
So, let us celebrate those among us who are healthier and more generous.
I sure wouldn’t characterize the way you share your writing (or what lies behind why you do it that way) as “unhealthy,” sweetheart.
We all share in different ways. And so long as the writing is of good quality (which yours is), then that’s all that matters. 😉
There is room both for those who feel comfortable with being completely open about themselves in their writing and for those, like me, who do not. I am entirely with you on the “Victorian” lack of disclosure. I like to choose who, if anyone, I disclose the intent of, or the feeling behind, something I write. They can then read with that knowledge; whereas others read without it and must conceive their own interpretations.
I do not believe that is selfish, nor that you should see your own lack of disclosure as selfish.
Pete
Let’s celebrate everyone whose writing does the work of revealing us to ourselves. Some do it by telling their own stories; others do it by telling the stories of characters they create; both are giving us a window onto who we are, and why. Both are honest. Both help us feel connected. And both are generous, in their own ways shining their light on things we couldn’t see without them.
Aren’t these strange times though? When someone can sit at their computer and confess to millions of strangers all over the world. Or choose not to. Thanks for giving us what you give. Don’t feel bad about keeping the rest for yourself.
My goodness, you’re way too hard on yourself. How much or how little we want to share with the cyberworld should be of our own prerogative. People have different comfort levels when it comes to interpersonal relationships. Some are perfectly at home sharing tidbits about themselves, others are more private. But the great thing about art (writing or otherwise): the audience is, and should be, free to interpret and relate to the piece from their own perspectives. If the creator share some hints that nudge them in one direction or the other, great. But it’s certainly not the only/right way.
well thank you. *smiles* Sylvanus and I enjoy sharing our love and life for all to see in the hopes we help someone or give someone hope. We can’t help but be honest when we write no matter how sad or happy the story.
Touching post. Can you be honest about not wanting to be honest? I think you just did, quite well.
I think I understand your feelings. I sometimes get pressed by readers to say if what I describe really happened. I can’t. I need a screen between myself and those who are reading. It’s not just to protect myself and friends against people who might use such information maliciously. It’s because I just can’t be completely open with people I don’t know. There are one or two readers who have got so close to me, whom I’ve met in real life, and who now know everything about me (well, nearly everything!). But if I don’t know you, how can I tell you intimate details of my real life? This is not a criticism of those who can do this. I only know I can’t.