Words in—or outside of—a vacuum

Tonight I had a conversation with a few friends about blogs, and I realized again something that I already knew: I would write even if nobody ever read what I wrote.

True, since last January I have written approximately two poems.

True, I have gone for longer stretches than usual this year without posting on the blog.

True, I have not even posted a new fanfiction story in a while.

True, my original ideas often simmer so long on the back burner that the bottom of the pot is almost burnt out.

But when I don't write for a while, I feel it. Or the lack of it. And then I know that writing something—anything—will lift my spirits.

I've written myself further into corners at times. I've written my share of Mary Sues, stories starring a type of myself in which the character standing in for me gets everything I want. I've written more than a few things that should never have seen the light of day (let alone been seen by a fellow human being). I've written out of anger and self-pity. I've written words that were intended to hurt, intended to sever relationships.

But I've also written comfort and truth. I've written clever phrases and dead-on character voices. I've written whimsical stories for children and I've written thoughtful poems about the world as I see it. I've spent a pain-stakingly long amount of time on writing communications in which I try my hardest to temper the truth with love and respect.

My words—on paper or online—are an integral part of who I am. I love writing, and I have learned so much in the process of it. Thank God that He shares creativity with us!

And I do think that creativity is usually best when it is shared. It provides more enjoyment to both parties that way, as well as more growth. Feedback challenges a writer to think about her audience, to realize that she is not writing in a vacuum. It pulls her out of herself and leads her into service of the work.

But if I were writing in a vacuum, I would still do it.