Know Jack #492 Just Thinking

St. Thomas Aquinas places contemplation as the central goal of life. Aristotle thought highly of the practice as well. I’m not a deep thinker, so I borrow the thoughts of those who were. However, I have found that a regular time of contemplation and reflection about who I am and where I am going helps me choose the path I wish to travel.

I have told the story many times of how a college writing assignment convinced me to write stories that I allowed others to read. I have told fanciful stories that were real only in my mind for as long as I can remember. I think it’s in the nature of man to seek to bend reality to our will. I think it’s accurate to say I have always been a slave to duty as I see it. I don’t see that as negative in any way, but to escape it for brief moments refreshes the spirit.

Writing satisfies something in me, call it the ability to see the invisible, hear the voice of conscience, or simply call it my own brand of madness. Whatever that thing is, acting on it produces joy. Writing engages my mind like nothing else because it has no boundaries, except maybe the rules of grammar. I break those rules occasionally. Sometimes I even do it on purpose.

In a way, writing is a selfish act, a private indulgence of my fantasies. I would like to be a good writer. I have to be a good writer to please readers and editors. I have to be a good writer to sell my stories and win literary acclaim. Nevertheless, I don’t have to be a good writer to experience the joy that writing gives. Ultimately, joy is the goal.

A huge part of the joy comes from being heard. That is true whether or not you are a writer. I often asked my children if they thought I was talking just to hear my own voice. I discovered later they weren’t. That’s called delayed gratification. Knowing your voice is heard is extremely gratifying. A writer is willing to be adrift in the seemingly limitless sea of books and authors. Yet if but one person reads their writing, if one person hears, the writer rejoices.

Writing may bring joy, but like so much in life, the path is not smooth. I check the sales figures and look at the rankings daily. I fuss over advertising and promotion. Writing involves grunt work. I pack hundreds of pounds of books and other gear into my car, drive to book fairs, unload it, and set it all up, only to take it all down again and haul it home. I write when I don’t feel like it. I lose sleep over storylines and characters waking me up at all hours to tell me I have it all wrong. That is the part of writing as sure as banging a keyboard. To claim the blessing of joy, a writer must walk the path that goes there.

Thinking about who I am, why I write, and what I receive from it will keep me on the path and steer me back to it if I stray.