Martha Lee Anne was the name of the game for this blog. A manifesto, beautiful and brilliant and true, the culmination of all I’d been thinking of this semester—I told her that I loved it, but that really hardly began to do justice to what I felt. “I needed you to burn me. I needed to see you vulnerable, so I could be vulnerable. I needed you to be too much sometimes so I could remember we’re all too much, and without too much, we wouldn’t have any real stories or conversations. I needed to know being honest hurt you as much as it hurts me. I needed to see your flaws to show you mine, and I needed to see you at your ugliest, so you could stand to see me at mine.” Yes, yes, yes—I needed to be burned, too, to understand the heat. I needed to know that other people were trying to be real and honest even if it meant failing miserably (which it often does for me—but as I was telling someone I love the other day, my lies may say far more about me than my truths.)
Ali was really the one to put it together for me at the end. What she says is right—we all think we’re writing shit, but in the meantime, I’m sitting here writing blogs lauding your shit and telling my friends about the brilliant writers in my class. I’m feeling like I’m the only person writing anything not really worth reading, but then again, so is everyone else in the class. That matters to me. My iTunes is on Regina Spektor now—“Samson.” It’s a nice 2:00 AM blogging song. But I loved you first, and you should remember it—it was always important to me who loved first, and it was even more important that it was me. Loving before being loved was a risk; loving after being loved was a guarantee. And I said earlier that I’m the safe bet, and that I am the decent girl to be counted on, but I think this class had changed a little of that in me—made me a little less apologetic, a little more fierce in my love and devotion and desire, a little more open with myself when it comes to the role of others in my life. “You are my sweetest downfall—I loved you first.” 1:42.
“And because we’re all in the same jar, with the same wings, feeling the same ache of being stuck in a stupid jar, we might as well share what little lights we have and make the ugly jar as bright and beautiful as we can.”
I wrote that in my initial blog, and I’m sticking with it. I still think that I have this contradictory need to give myself, but still edit myself to appear…I guess however I expect you to expect me to appear, which leads me to writer’s block because I have to sit there and think of something else to write besides what I’m thinking. It’s all very complicated, but I guess I just figured out that it’s a part of being human (living in an ugly jar) and since we are all human, and we do have these stories within us, why not share them- all of them- and make life a little brighter, and a little more beautiful?
I learned that my crap is your crap, so there is no reason for me to hold it back. And I guess, the more I think about it, the safer I feel writing myself into the pages.
After reading several blogs on just not having anything to write, I decided that I don’t really think the random, scribbles, or ramblings are crap. I like to think that something in us is just a little farther ahead than we think we are, and we just haven’t seen our secretive brilliance yet…I think Judy Troy said something like that in her class once. I’ve learned that it’s ok to have crap on the page, as long as you’re moving forward, because eventually, you’ll get somewhere.
Today in class Josie said something along the lines of "It may be crap, but it's mine"
That speaks volumes because I often feel so intimidated on this thing. With Wilson and Josie and Martha Lee Anne and Whispers and all of the other "writing superstars" it's easy to feel looked over or misunderstood. I had been beating myself up, but what she said struck a chord.
Who cares if you like it? Who cares if you don't shower me and my writing with praise? I wrote it and when I hit "submit" I, with my own set of morals and opinions and experiences, deemed it worthy to be read by you all.
Going through these blogs there have definitely been a few that I have posted that now re-reading I say "Wow. Crap." But I'm glad to have written it, still. Because I know myself well enough to know that there is progress there. And more than that, there has been a "finding of myself" that has most certainly occurred in these past few months.
And if writing crap is what it takes for me to find myself...then bring it on.
This blog just about killed me. I avoided it all Thanksgiving long and probably wrote one of the crappiest blogs ever. This has really been a blog that I have thought about since posting. Why do we write crap sometimes? Why do I? Then it kind of hit me. I think sometimes I write crap because I am afraid to tell the truth. I write the stuff that people want to hear and make it sound great to get the good grade and yet it is so far from whom I really am. I want to start being honest in my writing not pleasing the person who reads it but getting the satisfaction of not having a stinky crappy well written piece of nothing, because it has nothing to do with me. (Maybe I am way off again?) I admire so many of yall’s work and writing that maybe I am just afraid that if I let my true writing show and no one likes it then I don’t have the “this is not my best work” to hide behind. I have to agree with Courtney in liking what Josie said about “it may be crap but its mine”. I think I need to just start embarrassing the maybe crappiness of stuff not worrying about what anyone else thinks. Like so many of my fellow students the academic writing that comes with the English territory has sucked the very love and life out of what we once loved doing so much. I think that it has caused fear inside of me, but as a senior with one more semester to go I will no longer fear the crap and just write for the love of it.
My favorite one, and haha, not for the obvious reasons. If I had just known this in the beginning it would have been easier, I think, if I just known all of this. But isn't that how it always goes... I stare at my large veiny hands resting on the keyboard, listening to DMB in the background, and wondering about the nature of English majors as "red wine drinking carcinogen inhaling introspective" persons we make ourselves into. And I don't mind it. I pause to formulate a warrant, and take a second to position my argument, and eagerly accept my position as a blind one, while urging my thoughts into freestyle, and consider a possible memoir. But my mind persists in wondering why I didn't know any of this sooner. And I have to tell myself that I was dumb, I was an idiot, and I had to learn from doing it myself and reading over all these blogs that writing is not about me at all. It has always been meaningful to me, but now I can make it meaningful to everyone else too. I can use italics (that much to my chagrin do not show up on this blog) and parentheses, and CAPS, and 1. Lists and 2. *Footnotes. And that reality, honesty, and truthfulness don’t always go together perfectly, but it’s the writing that matters and the reader who cares. And that none of its impossible, because we all wrote how much we loved and hated and learned from each other, even when the topics were difficult and language controversial. We learned about ourselves, about our writing, and about each other. And it doesn't matter if we think it's shit. Someone else will read it, and they can decide.
*2. This is supposed to be a footnote, although I'm not sure those can exist in blogs...
This was when I realized that I had fallen in love with each and every one of you. That ALL of us, even those who week after week have knocked me off my feet with their blog posts, feel like we're writing shit. And sometimes, all of us DO write shit. We write things that we don't believe, or don't care about, or that just plain lack life - and even if we get the coveted "A", we know that what we've written was worthless. It's shit and we can smell it from a mile away. I got two papers back this week. I remember writing both of them, but honestly, I couldn't tell you what they said, what points I argued, or (for one of them at least) what works they addressed. They were utter crap. Oh yeah, I made an A and a B on them, but that doesn't change the fact that they were worthless. I don't want to spend my life writing that kind of shit. I would far rather write by the seat of my pants, miss a comma or a capitalization, but write something MEANINGFUL than write a perfectly punctuated, beautifully supported, well articulated steaming pile of poo. So, I have hereby given myself permission to write. To write without having my entire piece planned out, without knowing where I'm going with something before I start, and without worrying about the punctuation. It may feel like I'm writing shit, but at least it will be honest; at least it will be shit I care about.
Josh's post was amazing for this one. His analogy for food and writing was so dead on. But it made me feel good that everyone else feels their writing is crap too. Like Courtney, I had began to see my passion for writing diminish as my levels of work and school rose. I was scared of it, and at one point questioned if I should even be an English major. But I've gotten it back, and I've started writing crap again. I feel like I love what everyone in this class has to say, and if you all published books, I would be first in line to buy them. Your crap is beautiful. I want to read it. Give me more.
When this blog was assigned to us, I think I was pretty honest about it (and not drunk, for once. I find strange, fun things to do while drunk and this blog has been one of them). Everyone probably feels the same way about writing badly. With me, however, the problem comes when I worry too much about writing badly; just for writing badly's sake (God dammit, what terrible syntax and grammar and not real words...). The writing process became nothing more than me trying to avoid sounding like a douche-nozzle. I wanted so bad not to sound like certain people who I heard talk everyday that I forgot about what really mattered: the writing itself. To me, it's like when you plan on meeting a girl at the bar, and you take another girl with you instead to make her jealous (or just to be a dick). You're wasting both girls' time, but especially the one who you said you'd meet up with. You walk into the sphere (the "bar" in this metaphor) expecting to meet "Writing," but instead you get dressed up and meet "Avoiding Crap" at another bar and bring her with you. You're so worried about sounding terrible that you forget about honesty. Honesty trumps whatever selfish notion you have of yourself and about your writing. You're settling for the whore that is "avoiding crap" when "writing for yourself" could be the girl you bring home to momma.
“Wilson, gosh, you're going places” (kmp0020)”…BOOM BITCHES. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the truth we’ve been talking about and looking for. All our emotional masturbation and cyber touching has led us to the place where we’ve wanted to be—recognition of my genius.
(that was not serious). –but it is my favorite line ;) I’ll have to tell my dad about it so he’ll stop asking me how much “Englishers” make.
I can't even begin to describe how I feel about Josie's statement, about falling in love with the writing of others. When you let loose and are unafraid, then beautiful things find their way onto the page. Loving is both and emotion and a choice. I think the emotion helps us make the choice, and the choice helps us feel the emotion. We could choose to walk away from this blog, or we could choose to invest in it. Most of us invested, and we felt, and those two things were mingled together. Each causing the other.
I've loved your words and your ideas. I've enjoyed the difficulty of sharing my self with you and allowing myself to care about you.
This is beautiful: "But I loved you first, and you should remember it—it was always important to me who loved first, and it was even more important that it was me. Loving before being loved was a risk; loving after being loved was a guarantee."
But it's also hard and tiresome. But it's the choice we made, when we invested. And I love that it's hard and tiresome, because that means that it took effort, and that effort has been rewarded by the way that you think about the words that I have written. That means everything.
I learned to write everything that I meant and to be unafraid of rejection, because it would have inherent value, and it might even lead to something meaningful in the end.
I found this blog and in class assignment to be the most intellectually stimulating. We are told to hinder any writing skills we possess and write with very little or no emotion whatsoever/ In my mind I was writing something that was absolute crap to me, but when I read this to the class, I finally realized how allowed a reader or a listener is able to to develop their own emotions and attach them to my specific situation.
Isn't that the point? Do we always have to use big words and deeply penetrating emotions in order to get our readers to pay attention?
As hard as it probably was for Paul to read about about a friend he had lost, I as a listener was able to feel the pain he most likely felt. I could picture myself in his shoes, and I even took that further, as many people probably did, and imagined losing one of my closest friends. It's a scary thought.
Aside from everything we learned this year, this assignment alone, like Josie said, had me falling in love with the writing of others.
You think it's shit, I think it's brilliant and wish I came up with it. However, I think it's shit, you probably agree (haha, I hope I am wrong, for my ego's sake).
I agree with Dr. PD's original post. To write through the writer's block. It's honestly the hardest thing to do, because I think we as writers are programmed to not let ourselves write shit. At least, I'm that way. But once the words start flowing, it seems are fingers get the Midas touch and the shit becomes gold. Maybe because we forget our inhibitions because we think we are just writing shit to get through the writer's block. So when that happens, we say what we really want to say, without fear of being judged.
I hope some people have fallen, if not in love, in like with some of my shit. Because I admire all of you.
This blog post left me once again reflecting on my own life. Have you ever considered how sometimes you just start rambling about something nonsensical and it turns into one of the best conversations you have ever had in your entire life? There's "writing" shit.
I have learned over this last semester that sometimes writing like you talk brings out some of the best work you'll ever produce. When you bull shit like I do, bull shit comes out on paper. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's brilliant, and sometimes it's just shit.
That's the beauty of bull shit writing. Unlike the real world, your writing can be deleted and re done as many times as you want. No one has to see or,for sake of conversation, "hear" it until you're ready for them to. There is no pressure behind writing shit. So just write SHIT.
Well for the whole idea of writing crap… I still feel the same exact way I did before. We all do it and hope it turns into a masterpiece. In looking at everyone else’s responses to this post I think we all go through the same process and question our own true identity in our writing and how credible we really are. But what makes shit actual shit and what makes it something actually meaningful and powerful? Well that would be left up to the individual who makes up the audience. They say another man’s trash is another man’s treasure and that is exactly how I see this post and apply it to the actual process of writing and sharing work. Just because a teacher gives you an average grade on a paper you feel was an extraordinary piece or literature does not mean that paper is not as great as the writer thought it was. As long as you put your heart into it is beautiful and it is art…right? I think so. In saying this I feel like I am missing out on something in reading Wilson’s deep and profound posts I feel like I am not getting all that I should be out of this blogging experience even though I feel like it has been a great learning experience as well as a way for me to express myself, but I just do not feel that I am at the level that Dr. P would want me to be at. (Sorry, if this in all actuality just shit.) Something Wilson said actually did speak to me and really brought it all together in some aspect. “Though you may resent the words, or question the motives, searching for myself in front of people, through text, protects others from being drowned as I look for my reflection. I wish that you all would like me. I wish that we could hold hands and tell jokes and get drunk. I’ve bought in. I’m not okay enough to act aloof. The forum is more than a forum and resultantly the class is more than a class.” Way to go Mr. Sims.
So now that day in class has a different feel, and I can kinda see it the way you all saw it. I still feel like my own writing kinda sucks, and I even feel like what I said in class wasn't all that good. I wanted to say more, but I kinda lost my train of thought, and then I felt my face getting red as if I had just yelled "hey, stop that asian girl!"
I guess what I learned was that I shouldn't be so embarrassed for what I write. If anything, I should welcome any possible ridicule or censure and use it as an opportunity to see my own writing in a different light. I'd like to think that the only reason I hate my own writing is because I can only see it from my perspective. Maybe it's actually good from another perspective (fingers crossed, there) and I just can't see it, in the same way that everybody else "writes shit" but it's life-changing for other people.
This blog was my favorite one to write. Mainly because I kinda stopped caring what others thought. And it just happened to be that the topic was related to this revelation. I actually wrote a blog before this one where I was brutally honest. ( I usually do this to start my creative juices flowing) And this time, I posted most of my original blog. I didn’t edit or anything. I just put me up. And it was scary.
I loved the fact that everyone thinks they write crap. It makes the world so much less lonely when you find others in the same condition you are in. It’s also scary to be in a position to justify my lack of thoughtful writing. Conviction- check.
I learned from this post to not let fears hold me back, and to imagine writing this for just myself. That each time I write, I write to console myself, feed myself words, find myself. I write to understand and define myself. And I don’t have to care what you people of the world think. Each word comes from a me that is unique and the same as everyone else. And as long as it’s me, as long as it’s mine, it’s good enough.
A big ole' steaming pile of Nat' Geo elephant shit, baking in the sun with a cloud of flies swarming around its glistening lumps. And here we are relating our writing to it.
Nay, says I. Nay.
If all the "crap" that we talk about writing actually turns out to be our best writing, then is it really crap? Nay. Crap writing is the stuff we get when we don't come remotely close to making an effort. Now, we might be writing about crappy stuff, or feeling crappy about our writing, but I can't justify that as categorizing what we write as crap. I'm sure our definition of crap has been stretched to all corners of the dictionary, but when you take a look at these blogs from people like TeNeesha, I can't convince myself into believing that the feelings and perspectives published on this blog are relatable to shit.
The original blog for this had me feeling that writing crap was something more serious than it really is. Life is all about perspective. Stalking my own patterns (and some others), I now view crap and muse writing as a mind trick tool to help wring out the meat from your intestines, and enjoy smearing it all over the place (this is not a metaphor; I'm talking about literally smearing shit all over the place; but seriously, this is just a metaphor).
So if you think it's crap, it's probably not a bad as you think. It's probably just a fart.
Well. This post didn't send either. What I have definitely learned is to save stuff onto a Word document so I won't have to cover up a bruise on my forehead tomorrow from all the headdesking. It must be my ancient internet at home that is probably antiquarian-worthy.
So. On writing "shit." I think I wrote this in an earlier post, but there's nothing like hearing it again for reinforcement. I don't think anything we write can be constituted as "shit" or "crap" or various other 'words' we have for what unprocessed matter comes out of our bodies. Sure, when you write, it can be akin to shitting words on a page, but I don't think we give enough credit to the cognitive processing it takes to be able to "shit" words onto a page. So even if you are deliberately "BS-ing," I don't think you can call it that. Either way, don't you feel kind of bad when you deliberately try to do so, like you're cheating yourself out of what you could be doing, which is writing? I can solve "naming," but I don't think I can change intentionality. I think everyone gives themselves too little credit, as said in our class discussion. More importantly, if one's intent is to BS, then maybe we should probably learn to spare a little time so we don't have resort to such a self-deprecating technique.
I'm sure we all are pissed at ourselves when we get an A out of BS.
“Revision: Normally I make more jokes. I think it’s because I’m not trying to sleep with anyone in class, but for whatever reason my subconscious has made only this serious portion of myself available. Do not be mistaken; I could have been whoever I wanted to be in here. I could have been how you wish you were, or how your boyfriend is, or everything he isn’t. I could have been fresh and hopeful. Or, as I’m sure you’d prefer, I could have been humble” (Wilson). I’m glad to know that everyone in this class were more of who they are than who they pretended to be. Well, at least I hope. Because I really like everyone who I’ve met in this class.
But I think it was important for this post to be posted, Wilson. Because we don’t actually know who any of the rest of us actually are. I don’t know the real Wilson or the real Josie or the real Courtney – and hell, you don’t know the real Kristina. None of you even really knew that I’m kmp0020 until now. You don’t know that my parents met in a parking lot, that my favorite color is gray (no, I’m not kidding), or that I hate casseroles. Does not knowing these things mean that you don’t know me? I don’t think so. But on that note, I’d like to say that I hope that we continue to see each other and that we continue to get to know one another.
Continuing on that same note, “I admire you. I like the shit you write. I went from thinking that half of you were assholes to thinking that all of you are brilliant and some more besides, and maybe being an asshole isn't such a bad thing sometimes. I got to read about your trials and your fuckings-up and your girls like summer, and it made me love you. I think it matters. I hope it does. It may not. Love doesn't always matter, not for all parties involved-- I have felt lately that loving is more important than being loved” (Josie). Do you remember when we read aloud from Robert Fulghum’s “Words I Wish I Wrote”? If I had my own version of that book, this post would be in it. You all think that you write crap but I honestly have never enjoyed reading another class’s work so much in my entire life. You all are amazing.
And the perfect way to end this post: “Peace.Love.Shit” (Ardell).
I don't know how I missed this blog, but I think we all at sometimes or another write crap, I know I do. If I get lost or get writers block, I just start rambling and somehow end up having a point in what I said. It has helped with a lot of papers and assignments to this day. And somehow in the end I manage to get an A or a B grade, not that a B is good, but its passing. I just think sometime is just that I want to be done with writing and crap is the answer! lol
One person's trash is another person's treasure! I love when I can sneak cheesy things in...
But really though, this occurred to me last night...have we really just been shitting ourselves? The honeymoon really is over isn't it...
My Dad likes to joke that I am getting an English Degree in bullshit. I'm just learning how to make up crap (which is funny coming from him cause he is a lawyer, ha). But I think that this discussion here just reflects so much else we have talked about, that the truth really will set you free. Once we let go of trying to please everyone and just say what it is we want to say...well then that is when the magic happens. I mean, how horrible would this blog assignment have been if all of us had just written just to please everyone else and our professor? I know that I never would have learned the one of the biggest lessons I learned this semester...
We've all rambled and rumbled around a bit...but the final project and our final musings are really beautiful and productive. I may have thrown a lot of words around and waded through a lot to get to where I am now, but really what I have learned is about people. And people aren't crap. It's exciting to see where we've come and how much further we have to go.
Martha Lee Anne was the name of the game for this blog. A manifesto, beautiful and brilliant and true, the culmination of all I’d been thinking of this semester—I told her that I loved it, but that really hardly began to do justice to what I felt. “I needed you to burn me. I needed to see you vulnerable, so I could be vulnerable. I needed you to be too much sometimes so I could remember we’re all too much, and without too much, we wouldn’t have any real stories or conversations. I needed to know being honest hurt you as much as it hurts me. I needed to see your flaws to show you mine, and I needed to see you at your ugliest, so you could stand to see me at mine.” Yes, yes, yes—I needed to be burned, too, to understand the heat. I needed to know that other people were trying to be real and honest even if it meant failing miserably (which it often does for me—but as I was telling someone I love the other day, my lies may say far more about me than my truths.)
ReplyDeleteAli was really the one to put it together for me at the end. What she says is right—we all think we’re writing shit, but in the meantime, I’m sitting here writing blogs lauding your shit and telling my friends about the brilliant writers in my class. I’m feeling like I’m the only person writing anything not really worth reading, but then again, so is everyone else in the class. That matters to me. My iTunes is on Regina Spektor now—“Samson.” It’s a nice 2:00 AM blogging song. But I loved you first, and you should remember it—it was always important to me who loved first, and it was even more important that it was me. Loving before being loved was a risk; loving after being loved was a guarantee. And I said earlier that I’m the safe bet, and that I am the decent girl to be counted on, but I think this class had changed a little of that in me—made me a little less apologetic, a little more fierce in my love and devotion and desire, a little more open with myself when it comes to the role of others in my life. “You are my sweetest downfall—I loved you first.” 1:42.
“And because we’re all in the same jar, with the same wings, feeling the same ache of being stuck in a stupid jar, we might as well share what little lights we have and make the ugly jar as bright and beautiful as we can.”
ReplyDeleteI wrote that in my initial blog, and I’m sticking with it. I still think that I have this contradictory need to give myself, but still edit myself to appear…I guess however I expect you to expect me to appear, which leads me to writer’s block because I have to sit there and think of something else to write besides what I’m thinking. It’s all very complicated, but I guess I just figured out that it’s a part of being human (living in an ugly jar) and since we are all human, and we do have these stories within us, why not share them- all of them- and make life a little brighter, and a little more beautiful?
I learned that my crap is your crap, so there is no reason for me to hold it back. And I guess, the more I think about it, the safer I feel writing myself into the pages.
After reading several blogs on just not having anything to write, I decided that I don’t really think the random, scribbles, or ramblings are crap. I like to think that something in us is just a little farther ahead than we think we are, and we just haven’t seen our secretive brilliance yet…I think Judy Troy said something like that in her class once. I’ve learned that it’s ok to have crap on the page, as long as you’re moving forward, because eventually, you’ll get somewhere.
Today in class Josie said something along the lines of "It may be crap, but it's mine"
ReplyDeleteThat speaks volumes because I often feel so intimidated on this thing. With Wilson and Josie and Martha Lee Anne and Whispers and all of the other "writing superstars" it's easy to feel looked over or misunderstood. I had been beating myself up, but what she said struck a chord.
Who cares if you like it? Who cares if you don't shower me and my writing with praise? I wrote it and when I hit "submit" I, with my own set of morals and opinions and experiences, deemed it worthy to be read by you all.
Going through these blogs there have definitely been a few that I have posted that now re-reading I say "Wow. Crap." But I'm glad to have written it, still. Because I know myself well enough to know that there is progress there. And more than that, there has been a "finding of myself" that has most certainly occurred in these past few months.
And if writing crap is what it takes for me to find myself...then bring it on.
This blog just about killed me. I avoided it all Thanksgiving long and probably wrote one of the crappiest blogs ever. This has really been a blog that I have thought about since posting. Why do we write crap sometimes? Why do I? Then it kind of hit me. I think sometimes I write crap because I am afraid to tell the truth. I write the stuff that people want to hear and make it sound great to get the good grade and yet it is so far from whom I really am. I want to start being honest in my writing not pleasing the person who reads it but getting the satisfaction of not having a stinky crappy well written piece of nothing, because it has nothing to do with me. (Maybe I am way off again?) I admire so many of yall’s work and writing that maybe I am just afraid that if I let my true writing show and no one likes it then I don’t have the “this is not my best work” to hide behind.
ReplyDeleteI have to agree with Courtney in liking what Josie said about “it may be crap but its mine”. I think I need to just start embarrassing the maybe crappiness of stuff not worrying about what anyone else thinks. Like so many of my fellow students the academic writing that comes with the English territory has sucked the very love and life out of what we once loved doing so much. I think that it has caused fear inside of me, but as a senior with one more semester to go I will no longer fear the crap and just write for the love of it.
My favorite one, and haha, not for the obvious reasons. If I had just known this in the beginning it would have been easier, I think, if I just known all of this. But isn't that how it always goes... I stare at my large veiny hands resting on the keyboard, listening to DMB in the background, and wondering about the nature of English majors as "red wine drinking carcinogen inhaling introspective" persons we make ourselves into. And I don't mind it. I pause to formulate a warrant, and take a second to position my argument, and eagerly accept my position as a blind one, while urging my thoughts into freestyle, and consider a possible memoir. But my mind persists in wondering why I didn't know any of this sooner. And I have to tell myself that I was dumb, I was an idiot, and I had to learn from doing it myself and reading over all these blogs that writing is not about me at all. It has always been meaningful to me, but now I can make it meaningful to everyone else too. I can use italics (that much to my chagrin do not show up on this blog) and parentheses, and CAPS, and 1. Lists and 2. *Footnotes. And that reality, honesty, and truthfulness don’t always go together perfectly, but it’s the writing that matters and the reader who cares. And that none of its impossible, because we all wrote how much we loved and hated and learned from each other, even when the topics were difficult and language controversial. We learned about ourselves, about our writing, and about each other. And it doesn't matter if we think it's shit. Someone else will read it, and they can decide.
ReplyDelete*2. This is supposed to be a footnote, although I'm not sure those can exist in blogs...
This was when I realized that I had fallen in love with each and every one of you. That ALL of us, even those who week after week have knocked me off my feet with their blog posts, feel like we're writing shit. And sometimes, all of us DO write shit. We write things that we don't believe, or don't care about, or that just plain lack life - and even if we get the coveted "A", we know that what we've written was worthless. It's shit and we can smell it from a mile away. I got two papers back this week. I remember writing both of them, but honestly, I couldn't tell you what they said, what points I argued, or (for one of them at least) what works they addressed. They were utter crap. Oh yeah, I made an A and a B on them, but that doesn't change the fact that they were worthless. I don't want to spend my life writing that kind of shit. I would far rather write by the seat of my pants, miss a comma or a capitalization, but write something MEANINGFUL than write a perfectly punctuated, beautifully supported, well articulated steaming pile of poo. So, I have hereby given myself permission to write. To write without having my entire piece planned out, without knowing where I'm going with something before I start, and without worrying about the punctuation. It may feel like I'm writing shit, but at least it will be honest; at least it will be shit I care about.
ReplyDeleteJosh's post was amazing for this one. His analogy for food and writing was so dead on.
ReplyDeleteBut it made me feel good that everyone else feels their writing is crap too. Like Courtney, I had began to see my passion for writing diminish as my levels of work and school rose. I was scared of it, and at one point questioned if I should even be an English major. But I've gotten it back, and I've started writing crap again. I feel like I love what everyone in this class has to say, and if you all published books, I would be first in line to buy them. Your crap is beautiful. I want to read it. Give me more.
When this blog was assigned to us, I think I was pretty honest about it (and not drunk, for once. I find strange, fun things to do while drunk and this blog has been one of them). Everyone probably feels the same way about writing badly.
ReplyDeleteWith me, however, the problem comes when I worry too much about writing badly; just for writing badly's sake (God dammit, what terrible syntax and grammar and not real words...). The writing process became nothing more than me trying to avoid sounding like a douche-nozzle. I wanted so bad not to sound like certain people who I heard talk everyday that I forgot about what really mattered: the writing itself. To me, it's like when you plan on meeting a girl at the bar, and you take another girl with you instead to make her jealous (or just to be a dick). You're wasting both girls' time, but especially the one who you said you'd meet up with. You walk into the sphere (the "bar" in this metaphor) expecting to meet "Writing," but instead you get dressed up and meet "Avoiding Crap" at another bar and bring her with you. You're so worried about sounding terrible that you forget about honesty. Honesty trumps whatever selfish notion you have of yourself and about your writing. You're settling for the whore that is "avoiding crap" when "writing for yourself" could be the girl you bring home to momma.
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ReplyDelete“Wilson, gosh, you're going places” (kmp0020)”…BOOM BITCHES. There is no doubt in my mind that this is the truth we’ve been talking about and looking for. All our emotional masturbation and cyber touching has led us to the place where we’ve wanted to be—recognition of my genius.
ReplyDelete(that was not serious). –but it is my favorite line ;) I’ll have to tell my dad about it so he’ll stop asking me how much “Englishers” make.
I can't even begin to describe how I feel about Josie's statement, about falling in love with the writing of others. When you let loose and are unafraid, then beautiful things find their way onto the page. Loving is both and emotion and a choice. I think the emotion helps us make the choice, and the choice helps us feel the emotion. We could choose to walk away from this blog, or we could choose to invest in it. Most of us invested, and we felt, and those two things were mingled together. Each causing the other.
ReplyDeleteI've loved your words and your ideas. I've enjoyed the difficulty of sharing my self with you and allowing myself to care about you.
This is beautiful: "But I loved you first, and you should remember it—it was always important to me who loved first, and it was even more important that it was me. Loving before being loved was a risk; loving after being loved was a guarantee."
But it's also hard and tiresome. But it's the choice we made, when we invested. And I love that it's hard and tiresome, because that means that it took effort, and that effort has been rewarded by the way that you think about the words that I have written. That means everything.
I learned to write everything that I meant and to be unafraid of rejection, because it would have inherent value, and it might even lead to something meaningful in the end.
And it has.
I found this blog and in class assignment to be the most intellectually stimulating. We are told to hinder any writing skills we possess and write with very little or no emotion whatsoever/ In my mind I was writing something that was absolute crap to me, but when I read this to the class, I finally realized how allowed a reader or a listener is able to to develop their own emotions and attach them to my specific situation.
ReplyDeleteIsn't that the point? Do we always have to use big words and deeply penetrating emotions in order to get our readers to pay attention?
As hard as it probably was for Paul to read about about a friend he had lost, I as a listener was able to feel the pain he most likely felt. I could picture myself in his shoes, and I even took that further, as many people probably did, and imagined losing one of my closest friends. It's a scary thought.
Aside from everything we learned this year, this assignment alone, like Josie said, had me falling in love with the writing of others.
One person's shit is another person's potpourri.
ReplyDeleteYou think it's shit, I think it's brilliant and wish I came up with it. However, I think it's shit, you probably agree (haha, I hope I am wrong, for my ego's sake).
I agree with Dr. PD's original post. To write through the writer's block. It's honestly the hardest thing to do, because I think we as writers are programmed to not let ourselves write shit. At least, I'm that way. But once the words start flowing, it seems are fingers get the Midas touch and the shit becomes gold. Maybe because we forget our inhibitions because we think we are just writing shit to get through the writer's block. So when that happens, we say what we really want to say, without fear of being judged.
I hope some people have fallen, if not in love, in like with some of my shit. Because I admire all of you.
"Writing shit - it works on the page"-Trillium.
ReplyDeleteThis blog post left me once again reflecting on my own life. Have you ever considered how sometimes you just start rambling about something nonsensical and it turns into one of the best conversations you have ever had in your entire life? There's "writing" shit.
I have learned over this last semester that sometimes writing like you talk brings out some of the best work you'll ever produce. When you bull shit like I do, bull shit comes out on paper. Sometimes it's funny, sometimes it's sad, sometimes it's brilliant, and sometimes it's just shit.
That's the beauty of bull shit writing. Unlike the real world, your writing can be deleted and re done as many times as you want. No one has to see or,for sake of conversation, "hear" it until you're ready for them to. There is no pressure behind writing shit. So just write SHIT.
Well for the whole idea of writing crap… I still feel the same exact way I did before. We all do it and hope it turns into a masterpiece. In looking at everyone else’s responses to this post I think we all go through the same process and question our own true identity in our writing and how credible we really are. But what makes shit actual shit and what makes it something actually meaningful and powerful? Well that would be left up to the individual who makes up the audience. They say another man’s trash is another man’s treasure and that is exactly how I see this post and apply it to the actual process of writing and sharing work. Just because a teacher gives you an average grade on a paper you feel was an extraordinary piece or literature does not mean that paper is not as great as the writer thought it was. As long as you put your heart into it is beautiful and it is art…right? I think so. In saying this I feel like I am missing out on something in reading Wilson’s deep and profound posts I feel like I am not getting all that I should be out of this blogging experience even though I feel like it has been a great learning experience as well as a way for me to express myself, but I just do not feel that I am at the level that Dr. P would want me to be at. (Sorry, if this in all actuality just shit.)
ReplyDeleteSomething Wilson said actually did speak to me and really brought it all together in some aspect. “Though you may resent the words, or question the motives, searching for myself in front of people, through text, protects others from being drowned as I look for my reflection. I wish that you all would like me. I wish that we could hold hands and tell jokes and get drunk. I’ve bought in. I’m not okay enough to act aloof. The forum is more than a forum and resultantly the class is more than a class.” Way to go Mr. Sims.
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ReplyDeleteYeah, definitely just wrote this blog today...
ReplyDeleteSo now that day in class has a different feel, and I can kinda see it the way you all saw it. I still feel like my own writing kinda sucks, and I even feel like what I said in class wasn't all that good. I wanted to say more, but I kinda lost my train of thought, and then I felt my face getting red as if I had just yelled "hey, stop that asian girl!"
I guess what I learned was that I shouldn't be so embarrassed for what I write. If anything, I should welcome any possible ridicule or censure and use it as an opportunity to see my own writing in a different light. I'd like to think that the only reason I hate my own writing is because I can only see it from my perspective. Maybe it's actually good from another perspective (fingers crossed, there) and I just can't see it, in the same way that everybody else "writes shit" but it's life-changing for other people.
This blog was my favorite one to write. Mainly because I kinda stopped caring what others thought. And it just happened to be that the topic was related to this revelation. I actually wrote a blog before this one where I was brutally honest. ( I usually do this to start my creative juices flowing) And this time, I posted most of my original blog. I didn’t edit or anything. I just put me up. And it was scary.
ReplyDeleteI loved the fact that everyone thinks they write crap. It makes the world so much less lonely when you find others in the same condition you are in. It’s also scary to be in a position to justify my lack of thoughtful writing. Conviction- check.
I learned from this post to not let fears hold me back, and to imagine writing this for just myself. That each time I write, I write to console myself, feed myself words, find myself. I write to understand and define myself. And I don’t have to care what you people of the world think. Each word comes from a me that is unique and the same as everyone else. And as long as it’s me, as long as it’s mine, it’s good enough.
Crap. Shit. Feces. Ka-ka. Dung. Poop. Doodoo (or Doodee).
ReplyDeleteA big ole' steaming pile of Nat' Geo elephant shit, baking in the sun with a cloud of flies swarming around its glistening lumps. And here we are relating our writing to it.
Nay, says I. Nay.
If all the "crap" that we talk about writing actually turns out to be our best writing, then is it really crap? Nay. Crap writing is the stuff we get when we don't come remotely close to making an effort. Now, we might be writing about crappy stuff, or feeling crappy about our writing, but I can't justify that as categorizing what we write as crap. I'm sure our definition of crap has been stretched to all corners of the dictionary, but when you take a look at these blogs from people like TeNeesha, I can't convince myself into believing that the feelings and perspectives published on this blog are relatable to shit.
The original blog for this had me feeling that writing crap was something more serious than it really is. Life is all about perspective.
Stalking my own patterns (and some others), I now view crap and muse writing as a mind trick tool to help wring out the meat from your intestines, and enjoy smearing it all over the place (this is not a metaphor; I'm talking about literally smearing shit all over the place; but seriously, this is just a metaphor).
So if you think it's crap, it's probably not a bad as you think. It's probably just a fart.
Well. This post didn't send either. What I have definitely learned is to save stuff onto a Word document so I won't have to cover up a bruise on my forehead tomorrow from all the headdesking. It must be my ancient internet at home that is probably antiquarian-worthy.
ReplyDeleteSo. On writing "shit." I think I wrote this in an earlier post, but there's nothing like hearing it again for reinforcement. I don't think anything we write can be constituted as "shit" or "crap" or various other 'words' we have for what unprocessed matter comes out of our bodies. Sure, when you write, it can be akin to shitting words on a page, but I don't think we give enough credit to the cognitive processing it takes to be able to "shit" words onto a page. So even if you are deliberately "BS-ing," I don't think you can call it that. Either way, don't you feel kind of bad when you deliberately try to do so, like you're cheating yourself out of what you could be doing, which is writing? I can solve "naming," but I don't think I can change intentionality. I think everyone gives themselves too little credit, as said in our class discussion. More importantly, if one's intent is to BS, then maybe we should probably learn to spare a little time so we don't have resort to such a self-deprecating technique.
I'm sure we all are pissed at ourselves when we get an A out of BS.
Or proud, I'm not you.
I should follow my own advice.
“Revision: Normally I make more jokes. I think it’s because I’m not trying to sleep with anyone in class, but for whatever reason my subconscious has made only this serious portion of myself available. Do not be mistaken; I could have been whoever I wanted to be in here. I could have been how you wish you were, or how your boyfriend is, or everything he isn’t. I could have been fresh and hopeful. Or, as I’m sure you’d prefer, I could have been humble” (Wilson). I’m glad to know that everyone in this class were more of who they are than who they pretended to be. Well, at least I hope. Because I really like everyone who I’ve met in this class.
ReplyDeleteBut I think it was important for this post to be posted, Wilson. Because we don’t actually know who any of the rest of us actually are. I don’t know the real Wilson or the real Josie or the real Courtney – and hell, you don’t know the real Kristina. None of you even really knew that I’m kmp0020 until now. You don’t know that my parents met in a parking lot, that my favorite color is gray (no, I’m not kidding), or that I hate casseroles. Does not knowing these things mean that you don’t know me? I don’t think so. But on that note, I’d like to say that I hope that we continue to see each other and that we continue to get to know one another.
Continuing on that same note, “I admire you. I like the shit you write. I went from thinking that half of you were assholes to thinking that all of you are brilliant and some more besides, and maybe being an asshole isn't such a bad thing sometimes. I got to read about your trials and your fuckings-up and your girls like summer, and it made me love you. I think it matters. I hope it does. It may not. Love doesn't always matter, not for all parties involved-- I have felt lately that loving is more important than being loved” (Josie). Do you remember when we read aloud from Robert Fulghum’s “Words I Wish I Wrote”? If I had my own version of that book, this post would be in it. You all think that you write crap but I honestly have never enjoyed reading another class’s work so much in my entire life. You all are amazing.
And the perfect way to end this post: “Peace.Love.Shit” (Ardell).
I don't know how I missed this blog, but I think we all at sometimes or another write crap, I know I do. If I get lost or get writers block, I just start rambling and somehow end up having a point in what I said. It has helped with a lot of papers and assignments to this day. And somehow in the end I manage to get an A or a B grade, not that a B is good, but its passing. I just think sometime is just that I want to be done with writing and crap is the answer! lol
ReplyDeleteKristina. I hate casseroles. And, swear, my favorite color is gray.
ReplyDeleteOne person's trash is another person's treasure!
ReplyDeleteI love when I can sneak cheesy things in...
But really though, this occurred to me last night...have we really just been shitting ourselves? The honeymoon really is over isn't it...
My Dad likes to joke that I am getting an English Degree in bullshit. I'm just learning how to make up crap (which is funny coming from him cause he is a lawyer, ha). But I think that this discussion here just reflects so much else we have talked about, that the truth really will set you free. Once we let go of trying to please everyone and just say what it is we want to say...well then that is when the magic happens.
I mean, how horrible would this blog assignment have been if all of us had just written just to please everyone else and our professor? I know that I never would have learned the one of the biggest lessons I learned this semester...
We've all rambled and rumbled around a bit...but the final project and our final musings are really beautiful and productive. I may have thrown a lot of words around and waded through a lot to get to where I am now, but really what I have learned is about people. And people aren't crap.
It's exciting to see where we've come and how much further we have to go.
you hate casseroles? your favorite color is gray? (i've never met someone else!) you miss advanced comp all ready too? we're twins!
ReplyDelete