Why write?

I’m writing this blog because, for the past year, I have experienced the most crippling brand of writer’s block. My thought is that, maybe if I write about writing and really put down all the concepts I have learned over the years of my studies, then maybe the dam will break, and the ideas will come again. 

In truth, it’s a lot easier to write about writing than it is to sit down and tell a story, because writing about writing — you’re kind of spitballing. You’re putting down everything you in a hopefully cohesive stream of consciousness. Telling a story, though — the actual writing of it is almost an afterthought. Stories are born of ideas, which are hammered into beats and injected into the mold of structure, and then finally pressed onto the page, only to be ripped apart and put back together several times. The physical process of writing a screenplay is a result of intensive story development. 

But really, why write in the first place? At some point, every writer asks that question, often as a sort third-act plea of desperation, resulting from writer’s block. That same situation is why I’m asking this question now. And the thing about it is, the answer doesn’t need to be grand or complicated. In fact, the more you search for a higher reason like that, the more difficult it will be for you to write, because deep down you know you’ll never live up to it. Really, the answer is simple: You are writing because you have a voice, and that voice needs to be heard.

That’s all it is. That’s all filmmaking is, and that’s all any form of art is. An act of self-expression, an exercise of your individual voice — uncensored, uncompromised, and unapologetic. As writers — as artists — it is our job to discover and nurture our voices, so that the stories we tell are uniquely ours, with our own ring of truth and life experience driving the chariot.

So, as I’m sitting down, trying to figure out what the hell I want this blog to be, I think that’s the direction I want it to go. I want to give you the tools to discover your voice and stamp it in your stories. Because without a deep and understood connection to your individual voice, you will be forced to borrow from someone else’s, and therefore will never write anything beyond the generic and the contrived. Let’s not do that — no one wants to see or read that. Let’s tell your story instead.