There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed – Ernest Hemingway.
Before there was blogging, there was writing. I started writing before we had a computer in our home. Pen to paper, sometimes an illustration to match. I wrote a story about a mummy once – the dead kind – and read it to my dad. I was five or six. I was always writing, and it wasn’t until I was fifteen that I put my mind to writing something a little bit longer. Still on lined paper, lots and lots of paper. Unfortunately, that story was lost, but all of the magic remained in my head. It wasn’t until I was sixteen that I started to blog, but all I was doing was writing an online diary. It wasn’t like blogging is today. Content creation. Instagram filters. Something valid to say. Perfection. And so much more. Blogging is in a league of its own, and I cannot keep up with the trends, jumping on and off the bandwagon.
Writing can change and it doesn’t have trends, which is why I prefer it. Writing just means pouring your heart out onto a piece of paper, or a screen, and seeing the end result, whatever that is. It might not make sense to anyone else; it might not make any sense to you, but it is something physical and that is something that somebody out there will relate to. Writing is in the eye of the beholder, or whatever that quote is. There are many forms of writing, some of which I practice: long form, short form, contemporary novels, poetry, note-taking, to do lists, letters. The list can go on because it is never restricted. That is the magic of writing, it continues flowing and it manifests itself. You think that you use up all of your creativity, that you will never be able to write again after finishing that one long project, but words will appear in your mind one by one, until they flow into a sentence, and then a story of their own. You can apply this to blogging too – a new topic will form in your mind, something you desperately want to discuss, or a new outfit you want to showcase. But, blogging is constricted to one form: your blog. A blog of your own is an incredible platform. In fact, I rely on it much more than any form of social media because here I can create whatever content I want; if people want to read it, they will. I don’t have algorithms standing tall over it, leaving it in shadow for nobody to glance at. It is a great platform to showcase writing, to get your work out there. But, writing is every form imaginable, online and -sometimes more importantly – offline.
With writing, I can change the voice. I do it with blogging too. I manipulate my writing to reinforce the topic. If I am writing a book review, I let the topic and tone of the book influence how I illustrate my opinion. If I am writing a catch-up post, or a post in diary-style, I let the humour shine through, alongside the realities of real emotion and feeling. As for prose and poetry, it isn’t really me, but the words themselves that take over and present their tone. Perhaps, sometimes, not even the words, but the characters in my head, which isn’t crazy. Honest. Maybe it isn’t in my control to change the voice or the tone at all; I don’t force it, it just feels right to reflect the topic that I am talking about.
Ultimately, it is the fact that writing has been solace throughout my entire life. I have kept journals, made up stories, studied books and authors throughout the ages that have changed the way the world works, inspired the way it thinks and challenged its motivations and realities. There is a beauty in it, even in the darkest of words, the words that you cannot comprehend, or manage to write onto paper so that the thoughts become validated. Writing speaks the truth, but it can also lie. It can make your day and break your heart. I will always count myself as a writer first.
What are you? A writer, or a blogger?
Love, Faye xo