2006-11-27
raught
I've been thinking a lot more about my future recently, questioning and exploring what I see for myself. For now, I've tentatively taken off my "I want to be a doctor" hat and placed it back on my hat rack. It's just... biology was way more difficult than I thought it would be. And it's not like I don't like challenges, but the frustration can really accumulate. I put that dream down for a while- it's nothing drastic, and I still definitely want to help people and learn a lot more physiology and neurobiology.
When I came home last week, I picked out my writer's hat. It's a pretty epic venture, one you get to see chronicled in some of my feeble efforts here. It's just that writing is so powerful. I love the prospect of being able to poignantly describe and discuss the human condition, the whole spectrum of emotions and experiences. It is such a beautiful thought: to have deep and insightful empathy to the point where you can vividly and accurately record and share with others.
It's like when I'm reading a book, and the author nails a metaphor or an elusive feeling. I feel a pang inside and for an overwhelming brief moment there, it's like, "yeah." There is this mutual understanding: I get the character, but even more enthralling to me, the character gets me. I love it when I unexpectedly find ties to other people. Those moments remind me of the common bonds between all of us, and they make me feel a little less lonely and a little more alive. I would spend my life creating those compelling connections- I would write something so you could understand it and know exactly what I mean by it; I would remind you of your fascinating part in the universal human condition, if I could. I would peg down anything if I thought that I could do it justice.
..But I'm not sure if I can. It's so gosh darn difficult. I try, but I start feeling really presumptuous. I know that sounds ridiculous, but it's like, "Who am I to say what this character is feeling? How should I know?" I don't know if I can possibly write about someone that is not me. I can do okay with my own thoughts, sometimes. But I can't dare figure out and evoke yours. If I wrote a book, all the characters would be based off some version of me and my weird mannerisms and philosophies. Yup, it would be pretty dull and might be too intrusive of my own thoughts. Maybe I should put on my "I want to be an actor" hat for a while to get the feel of being someone else first.....?
But all I really, truly, know and can comfortably write about is... me. And that's really limiting. I've extremely narrowed my scope if I think like that. I don't know how many of my own experiences I can pen in a story form. But I do like taking reality and twisting it a bit. I will give it a try, I just have to dig out some inspiration. The writer hat is temporarily off my head because my noggin needs a good scratch after all of this confusion.
I think if I ever write the fictional memoir of a character told from first person perspective, in their introduction I will be sure to at some point use the statement: "...and the only thing you need to know about that is that I don't want to talk about it."
leesah-likes at 3:55 p.m.