Why I write

971-27-04297previewRicardo M. de Ungria, in his introduction to A Passionate Patience: Ten Filipino Poets on the Writing of Their Poems (1995), says that poets — and perhaps most writers — become reticent when asked to talk about their works or their own writing process.

And when they do say something about how they wrote their creative works, according to de Ungria quoting I. A. Richards and Harry Levin, the kind of talk writers make about their oeuvres become “suspect.” Whatever they say may be construed as self-aggrandizing statements about their art or artistry.

For how can writers honestly describe what went on inside their heads while writing their pieces?  Since ancient times, the creative process has always been cloaked in mystery and mysticism – with the genesis of creative works ascribed to divine possession or to the inspiration of the Muses or to the duende. The same idea persists to this more rational age, and may account for how the rest of humanity looks at writers and other artists.

But the actual production of creative works may involve artists applying the same rigor as that demanded of scientists. As de Ungria quotes Valery: “Graciously the gods give us the first line for nothing, but it is up to us to furnish a second that will harmonize with it and be unworthy of its supernatural elder brother” (xv).

The scientific method employed in empirical investigations finds its parallel in the four stages of creative production – preparation, incubation, illumination, and verification – or the more pared-down two phases – inventive and selective/critical (de Ungria xvi). So writers labor, as Horace pointed out, hoping they do not produce a mere mouse.

And the operative word is labor. For writers and other artists do not just pull out of thin air and present with a flourish a poem or a novel or painting; rather, they toil over their creations – poring over the lines they wrote, changing a word or two, or applying more paint onto the canvass.

And this striving benefits a writer’s psyche more than the pocket. So the question asked of writers, why do they write?

As Gémino H. Abad explains in “Why I Write,” originally published in his Manila Chronicle column and later compiled in a book entitled State of Play: Letter-Essays and Parables (1990), he writes because he is “obsessed with Writing” (13). He elaborates: “Writing is what I’ve always wanted to do, and believed I could do best … I was curious how one could look with words and see things clearly again” (14).

For Abad, writing is about language and cognition. And we will tackle that next week. But first …

Why do I write? Perhaps I can illustrate my “obsession” by quoting a passage from Ricky Lee’s Trip to Quiapo: Scriptwriting Manual (2001):

The writer’s task is to see, and to show others what s/he sees. When we watch a magic show, we just don’t enjoy it with jaws hanging in amazement. We go backstage because we need to see how the magic is done. And if we aren’t allowed backstage, we imagine what is there. We writers like going backstage [translation added]. (3)

How about you, why do you write?

16 Responses to “Why I write”

  1. This post did two things to me: it increased my vocabulary (I learned 3 words today, ha ha!) and it made me think why I also wanted to write in the first place. What a good way to start my day. I’m so inspired. Thanks. I am not one of your students but I wish I am. I always asked myself why I chose Mass Communications over AB English in College. I realized too late that I love Literature.

  2. It’s not too late to start your writing again. :-)

  3. It was Prof. De Ungria too, who asked us in class why we write…

    at the end of that class it was supposed that perhaps it had something to do with making sense of the disorder that had surrounded us budding writers in the past.

    in his words (i forget the exact quote:) “Maybe you write because you want to want a place to pen your fears and pains.”

  4. Right on. I wonder though why young people write mostly about their fears and pains. All that angst at that age. :-)

  5. Freidreich Layno Says:

    Writing. It makes me remember kindergarten, the bitter time in my childhood which I would describe as my fall from Innocence. We, freshly plucked from our mothers’ caring hands, would do nothing but sit “like Indians” and endure four woeful hours listening to Teacher Evelyn with recess as our only source of comfort. Teacher would constantly bombard us with those maths our moms didn’t tell us about. Then, her colleagues would then take over to give us some more, and, to further display their totalitarian system, would give corporal punishment to toddlers who subvert their power.  
    This merry group of mentors usually end the day by sending for our notebooks so we could copy the day’s lessons. One could see us nodding like crazy as we glance at the board then back to our notebooks while we write until wrists break. I was always the last person to finish, always ending up crying. Poor little me. This cute tragedy continued as a daily routine. I never liked it. I never liked writing since then.
    Twelve years later, I entered this course in U.P. called, B.A. English, with a major in creative writing. With all the notebook blues I had, I wasn’t so sure how such thing as writing could become creative. It was funny and ironic in every little way: I dream of becoming a painter. I value visuals more than words. I’m the type of guy who would only look at the pictures in books; I never dared reading one. So why write?
    Well, enough about back-stabbing writing. I must confess: writing did something for me. Having problems communicating with people, writing made me express myself and my views better. They were right. Some things that you’ve been wanting to share will materialize as you write. It’s the greatest gift man has ever given himself. It’s an entire universe that’s inside our brain and we ought to share it by writing.
    The kindergarten teachers gave me the hardest time. I blamed writing for it. But all the while, it was tactually rying to give me the easiest.

  6. Wow. Your tale could be an episode straight out of a Roald Dahl novel. And judging by how successful Dahl’s works are, perhaps something great can be made out of such torment. :-)

  7. Self discovery. That self-discovery is where the whole process of writing leads us was the first lesson that Prof. de Ungria taught us about 3 years ago.

    Now I’m panicking. I haven’t been “writing” since i left UP Mindanao.

  8. Hmmm. That sounds interesting, Airo. You write “to complicate / reality.” Perhaps that is what comes next after some of what Kat says about writing as “self-discovery.”

    Kat, how about doing some complicating of reality. That might make you get back to writing again. ;-)

  9. I don’t believe that creative skills in writing is innate; it is learned and that it requires much time to be sharpened.

    It is no longer a surprise when I discovered myself that I couldn’t write something creative when I tried to. My job as a web content writer might have somehow wrecked the creative skills I developed under BAE CW course for 4 years.

    Like Kat, I’m also panicking. :D

  10. You’ll get back into the groove, don’t worry. Enjoy your new experiences. Who knows, that might fuel your creative energies. :-)

  11. hey. link kita. referred my students to your paper on the “writing eye”. salamat for this. maupay nga pasko.

  12. Maupay nga Pasko! Salamat han pag-link. :-)

  13. [...] that I should start my blogging year with a song that complicates reality. Just remembered what Sir Nino’s reply to my comment on his blog entry entitled Why I [...]

  14. wow! nakalimutan kong may kopya pala ako ng Trip to Quiapo! wahaha! I wonder where it is now… gotta find it… and read it again… wahehehe

    Hi sir! :D kamusta po? hahaha

  15. nga pala sir, add kita sa blogroll ko. hehehe (for easy access…\m/)

    sure ;-) – nino

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