Tuesday, January 31, 2006
READING V. WRITING
A short while back, I began a new blog, a fictional blog that was to revolve around the life of a new resident at a European sanatorium. I promptly deleted 'At The Sanatorium' after realizing that it felt all too contrived, not to mention unoriginal. I had been playing with the idea for quite some time before acting upon it, only to immediately notice that I was effectively stealing an idea, and doing so in a most unpersuasive manner. The innovator of the idea, one Thomas Mann, could be heard turning in his Swiss grave as I unsuccessfully attempted to describe the impressions made upon the new resident as (s)he acclimatized to the new and strange surroundings. After the second post, I could not bring myself to continue with the pretense that I was creating something unique.
As a person that surrounds myself with any and all fashion of the written word on a daily basis, it is very difficult not to be influenced by what I read. As a person that also aspires to contribute to the creation of the written word, this influence does not bode well for the cultivation of original thought. I have always had great difficulty in trying to keeping the two separate, so much so that I would deliberately attempt to not read anything prior to and during a planned spell of writing. It was always one or the other of the two in the past, but now I am aware that a lack of the ability to read essentially renders me an empty vessel. Despite my middle age, constant reading is vital to my ongoing development. Pair this with a predisposition to impression, and the result is a distinct lack of innovative thought as it relates to the seed of an 'idea' that should ingrain itself in one's mind as a random and solitary process. The outcome does not amount to much: very little writing ensues. I would like the opposite to be true, but I would rather be able to read than to write and not read. I am not sure if the situation can be altered; I suspect that my essential make-up precludes the possibility.
A short while back, I began a new blog, a fictional blog that was to revolve around the life of a new resident at a European sanatorium. I promptly deleted 'At The Sanatorium' after realizing that it felt all too contrived, not to mention unoriginal. I had been playing with the idea for quite some time before acting upon it, only to immediately notice that I was effectively stealing an idea, and doing so in a most unpersuasive manner. The innovator of the idea, one Thomas Mann, could be heard turning in his Swiss grave as I unsuccessfully attempted to describe the impressions made upon the new resident as (s)he acclimatized to the new and strange surroundings. After the second post, I could not bring myself to continue with the pretense that I was creating something unique.
As a person that surrounds myself with any and all fashion of the written word on a daily basis, it is very difficult not to be influenced by what I read. As a person that also aspires to contribute to the creation of the written word, this influence does not bode well for the cultivation of original thought. I have always had great difficulty in trying to keeping the two separate, so much so that I would deliberately attempt to not read anything prior to and during a planned spell of writing. It was always one or the other of the two in the past, but now I am aware that a lack of the ability to read essentially renders me an empty vessel. Despite my middle age, constant reading is vital to my ongoing development. Pair this with a predisposition to impression, and the result is a distinct lack of innovative thought as it relates to the seed of an 'idea' that should ingrain itself in one's mind as a random and solitary process. The outcome does not amount to much: very little writing ensues. I would like the opposite to be true, but I would rather be able to read than to write and not read. I am not sure if the situation can be altered; I suspect that my essential make-up precludes the possibility.
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