Writing What You Know (Part 1)

Write what you know. At least, that’s the conventional wisdom. But what does it really mean?

I’ve seen plenty of media creators who seem to believe this means you should stick to the formulas you know, despite how harmful those formulas may be. (For an example of this, I can suggest the Tropes vs Women Series )

Considering that many of us have been raised in a culture that claims to “know” that women are less intelligent than men, people of color are more violent than whites, or trans*gendered individuals are just going through a phase, it isn’t surprising that we see these wrong ideas spouted back to us from the media we consume.

Sad, but not surprising.

Part of the reason why marginalization is so widespread is because wrong ideas about individuals who don’t hold privilege have been normalized. In everyday discourse and in media. The insidious thing is that these two sources feed off each other in a circle that requires energy and commitment to overcome.

But that energy sacrifice isn’t impossible to overcome.

As I’ve stated before, the key to rewriting what we “know” is to listen to the groups most affected by these ideas. Listening, truly listening, inevitably instills a sense of understanding in the listener. But that requires us to take the words of our fellow human beings at face value without attempting to validate the information we’re receiving though the lens of our own experiences.

The things each of us has lived through is not the whole of human existence. Recognizing that is the first step to learning.

So writing what you know is only half of the equation. The other is being willing to learn what you don’t.

Having a Central Observation

I was watching a video blog post about the real work an editor does in preparing a book for print when the author speaking out of my Youtube mentioned the “central observation” of the work.

And my brain did a worried stutter.

What about Bloodline? I wondered. Does it have a central observation? If so, what is it? If not, does it even need one?

Every piece of “serious” writing (a.k.a. homework) I’ve ever done needed a theme, a single important point, to hold it together. It stands to reason a work thirty times the length of a research paper might need one, too.

One question down.

The trouble is…I wasn’t thinking about a thesis statement when I was pounding brain to keyboard. I didn’t hack and slash through edits based on any one theme, aside from realism.

Then, what is the thread holding Sven’s story together?

I recall addressing the fallacious notion that people are a monolith and knowing one detail about them can tell you everything else you might need to know. Which is really as simple as creating complex characters with their own motivations and emotions.

Throughout the novel, Sven (Bloodline’s narrator) points out the pervasiveness of racism in the Empire. I also went into detail about the real ways this harms marginalized individuals.

I also address the myriad ways in which Sven values and devalues himself, the criteria by which he measures his worth. (A struggle I deal with, as well.) If anything, this is the only thread I’ve ever thought about in any significant way before now.

Yet, when I look back at the manuscript, all three of these themes see equal attention.

Then again, all three share their own common thread: the manifestation of personal bias about both the self and others. Bias is what tells a person that anyone with X trait is automatically going to be like Y. Bigotry is bias’s disgusting cousin, which comes about when unchecked bias refuses to change when presented with evidence refuting its claim.

One’s self-worth can also be affected by biases about what it means to be a “real man” or a “good person” or “strong” or any other desirable trait. And what traits are considered desirable are also based on bias.

Thus, despite some desire to examine self-worth through Sven, it seems my hemispheres colluded to create a much broader analysis within the text.

Toxic Signage

Over the past week, I've had to read a sign every day as I drive home from the night job. It reads, "Love is free. Approval is earned." And it's been bothering me...because it isn't true.

For two main reasons:

1) Love isn't free. It takes work. Love requires a certain level of intimacy combined with understanding. A certain kind of acceptance and support that allows the other person to be who he or she is without judgement, but with the willingness to help if said person wants to change for the better. Love requires you to pay attention to where a person is in his/ her life.

Compassion, on the other hand, IS free. All you have to do to be compassionate is to acknowledge that everyone has unique stresses and struggles and accept that your views and experiences are not the entirety of the human experience.

2) Approval isn't earned. We give approval to things every day simply by choosing not to speak out against them. Bias, hatred, marginalization. By offering no dissent against slurs and "casual" bigotry, we tell the one offering those things that it is acceptable behavior to do so. And while those truly harmful things are accepted, we show dissent for things no one can change:  height, appearance, race, gender, sexual orientation, mental illness, illness, etc... We decry behaviors that are actually healthy: removing oneself from a toxic home environment, family planning, establishing personal boundaries, expressing emotion or affection, being our unique selves, defending those who are marginalized, etc... If approval was actually earned, these things wouldn't happen.

Plus, approval is a basic human need. We all find ourselves in situations where we need someone to appreciate the place we are at as individuals. We all DESERVE to have our intrinsic worth validated. Because we are all different, coming from different experiences. We all have different ideas of prosperity, love, honor, faith, intimacy, etc...and that's fine. We deserve a place where those around us accept and acknowledge that fact. And we deserve that without ever having to do a thing.

So a healthy sign would read: "Approval and compassion are free. Respect is earned."

My Art, My Activism

“My art is my activism. There is no separation.” ~ Dr. Kortney Ryan Ziegler

I first saw this quote at Flyover Feminism on April 5, and it’s been stewing in my brain ever since.

What does it mean to combine my activism and artistic endeavors?

The short answer is to write (or paint or draw or dance or sing, etc…) about the issues that make you hot, that get your blood sizzling. Those issues you see affecting good people every day. Those issues that just need to go away for good.

But, as with most things, it goes deeper.

It isn’t enough to artistically criticize the sexism and objectification that frustrates you only to utilize a racist trope in an attempt to make the point. Or spend an entire manuscript growling about discrimination only to use words that marginalize individuals with mental illness.

Doing these things unintentionally doesn’t automatically make you a horrible person, but that’s where ownership and responsibility come into play. Every artistic brain child has a growth phase, and it’s the responsibility of the artist to raise that fledgling into the best it can be.

This calls for vigilance.

It calls for setting the boundaries necessary to make your art represent the things in which you believe.

And it calls for enforcing them.

I vow to practice vigilance. I vow to set and keep the boundaries for my own work.

Will you join me?