Ramblings, Writing, Writing Thoughts

Writerly ramblings

If writing is an art, it can only be considered an art in the same way as a painter works and a builder constructs. In other words, it’s not so much an art, as it is something you learn. Writing, at the end of the day, is skill, and the flair you exhibit is the part where a person would call it art.

The actual act of writing is quite easy. Someone once wrote that writers spend more time preparing for the actual writing rather than actually writing. It makes a lot of sense. The more prepared you are, the easier the words flow. It’s like building a brick house in that sense; you spend countless times deciding on the rooms, preparing the materials, counting off the measurements and so much more, that when the time comes to actually build the house, you know what to do.

That’s not to say that the process is easy though. Instead of working with your brains though (which is what all the preparatory work is for) you’re now engaging your body. You’re engaging in the senses, in your limbs. As you build the walls of your house, your mind slips into the motions of laying each brick, one at a time, one after the other. It’s a mechanical process.

Which is quite similar to writing. The act of choosing one word after another to make a coherent sentence followed by paragraphs and then passages illustrates the similar process to building a brick house. You string everything together and hopes it realises the vision in your head, in your mind.

This doesn’t just apply to those writers who research meticulously or plan carefully. It also apply to writers who write by the seat of their pants. These writers function on a slightly different level compared to the normal bricklayer; in this case, the bricklayer has an instinctive knowledge of knowing how the house will look like just from the lay of the land and the materials he’s given. It’s the kind of person who functions on abstraction rather than meticulousness.

And you know what? That’s completely fine too. At the end of the day, we’ll end up with houses anyway.

Whether those houses are fit to be inhabited, now THAT’S another matter.