I keep telling myself that I could be dishing out book after book if I lose some brain cells and write mindless drivel.
I'm not speaking about any particular brand of fiction, mind you. I believe that all genres have excellent, quality work as well as... well, the other end of the spectrum. I'm talking about the type of work in which one reads it and realizes that no one has edited it, the author was probably half-asleep while writing it, and there are so many grammatical mistakes that you begin to wonder if there are new rules in the english language that nobody bothered to tell you about.
Mind-numblingly enough, there are some books that are written much like the latter that have done extremely well in the market. I suppose it's a matter of marketing, on one hand. Or perhaps we as people just prefer to read the terrible stuff because we can't help ourselves. I admit to buying a tabloid a couple times in the past month. I don't know why; there isn't any quality to it whatsoever. Guilty pleasure, I suppose.
But I'm not talking about erotica, either, at least not in a generalized manner. There have been many well-written pieces of this genre. I'm just talking about work in general that is poorly written, both technically and otherwise, that many people seem to like. Why do we take english classes, take advice from professors, buy books about the publishing process, get critiques from our author friends - if all one has to do to be successful in the publishing world is to spew out a pile of ill-written trash?
I could do it. Well, I suppose that's incorrect. It'd be a little more accurate to say that I could do it- theoretically. But if I took finger to keyboard and looked at the white background of the Word program on my laptop, the only things that could be typed across it would be words. Real words. Real feelings. Sentences that almost create music on their own or that plays with alliteration and metaphors. That's just me. That's how I write, how I think, how I feel.
I write because it's in my soul to write. And because this outlet is creative, I consider myself an artist (okay, an artist that can't draw a stick figure without promoting mockery - but still). And while I enjoy learning about the trade from professionals and receiving constructive criticism - and will and am incorporating what I learn into my next work - when it comes down to the core, I will not change how I write, because my words are part of me. Even this ridiculous blog is part of me. All my works are pieces of my spirit, floating around out there for anybody to pick up and peruse.
So, then, this is my soul. If you like it, that's great. It more than likely means you understand me as a person. If you don't, no hard feelings. Even if you're someone who thinks you're obligated to like my work, such as friends, family etc, you don't have to hide it and tell everybody else, "I can't tell her that I really didn't like her book." It's okay. It's okay for you to hate it.
But it's also okay for me to write however I want. As long as there is a publisher out there who is willing to bring my work to market, I will continue to write the way my soul dictates. It is my right, as an artist. I truly believe I am pretty easygoing when it comes to other people's tolerance or intolerance to foreign ideas or people they think are strange. I never try to tell people to believe how I believe - not even my children. I tell them what I believe and why, but I would never take away a person's right to think independently. That's because I respect people. All I ask is that I get that same respect in return.
We were born to grow, question, learn, understand, and inspire. This is one of my methods of doing just that. I refuse to do anything else.