Character

All good stories are character-driven. It’s a question of degree. Human beings are wired to care much more about who than about what. In fact, we won’t care at all about what, unless we first care about who.

Barry Eisler, when asked “How important is character in your writing?”

The secret ingredient in blogging

There is something that has been playing on my mind lately. Surprisingly(!), it's about blogging.

There are a lot of 'how-to' blog pointers out there. The vast majority of these are based on marketing fundamentals.  They are the same rules that govern the production of commercial copy: advertising.

Think of your market. Select a handful of key words with maximum appeal to this market. Keep it simple, short, sweet. Write always with your target in mind. Tweet. Throw in some controversy. Not enough to get yourself sued, but enough to create a storm of response through the blogosphere.  

This is not a bad thing, and no doubt it has raised the calibre of many commercially-driven blog enterprises. But I would like to speak also in defence of self-expression.

For every successful blog who has followed these - yes, copy-writing - rules, there are plenty of others who have just gone right ahead and done their own thaing and succeeded. 

Irish gumbo has been steadily serving up bowlfuls of his own special wistful and wry observations, unabated since 2008. (I love that blog. And I want the recipe). 

Last year, Lori at RRSAHM broke all the rules when she blogged her way blindly through the unthinkable implosion of her life. She is still pulling shards out of her wounds, and her blog allows her to slowly examine and arrange them into small patterns of meaning and moments of grace.  Something powerful is unfolding there that defies the laws of blogging. 

And in the same year the all-time most hilarious (and full of whimsy) story was told in all its passive aggressive glory by The Bloggess, who was just as surprised as Victor when success rang the doorbell. 

So what's the secret ingredient?

Each of these blogs demonstrates that there is something other than a set of formulaic rules behind good writing.  They are each imbued (or in the case of The Bloggess, saturated) with the personality of the writers themselves.

How do I get it?

Learn from the successful.  But also know that success is not the product of a formula. It requires something unique and intangible that only you can provide. Write what you mean to. Be genuine. Keep it real. Put a piece of yourself into it. You - and only you - are your writing's secret ingredient. Learn to savour your own unique style by having fun with it, and then arrange everything else to bring that special intensity to the fore. 

That is the place where your writing will succeed.

Cake: the ultimate metaphor

There's a certain amount of healthy egotism involved in being a successful author/artist/pastry chef. Not only do you need to believe in what you produce, your belief needs to shine through your craft in such a way that it is visible to other people.  It's an essential element in attracting an audience.      


strawberry cake by Kanko* @ Flickr



Look around. There are thousands of writers out there. Some of them write well, some of them badly, but they all believe they're providing something that is worth someone else's time to consume. We can't all be the next bestselling author, can we? Even if you baked the tastiest cake ever, if every other person at the morning tea has also baked a wonderful cake there's a chance yours might never get eaten. So how does a cake get chosen?  It might be a very ordinary cake that happens to have magnificent icing, or it might be baked by someone whose cake was memorable last time, or maybe everyone saw a similar cake on TV so they think this one will taste good too. The choice of cake is as individual as the people who are choosing it.  So too with writing.

So how does that choice happen?  How do I, as a writer, elevate my craft to the extent that it rolls deliciously off the page and straight onto my intended audience's tongue?

And does it really matter whether I sit here typing away and never make the moves to earn the readership?  Does it matter if I ensconce myself in a long and happy but solitary writing life? If all the work I've ever done slides quietly with me into the grave? 



Yes, it does. It matters to me. And the reason it does - besides a pathetic desire to rise above the ordinary - is because writing, for me, is about connection.  It's not about the cake in and of itself, but about the mysterious transaction that occurs when I invest my time and energy to create something of beauty, something that will nourish another person. And equally, it's about receiving that same gift from others. When I sit quietly, listening to a fellow writer read her work, I'm receiving something precious and true, that has spilled from the very essence of who they are.



This is true of all the great works that we have read - whether they were books, poems, essays, blog posts, letters, published or private. The connection allows us to perceive and honour the great truths and gifts of our lives, whether that is self-knowledge, healing, or simply the power of telling our stories and having them heard. It is so valuable that it is worth reaching through my inadequacies to embrace the necessary self-belief.  And to keep writing.  And sharing my cake.

What is it that motivates you to keep writing and sharing?