While watching Where the Buffalo Roam, a movie based on Hunter S. Thompson (who is one of my few heroes), I found myself wondering if I’m being prissy in my writing—bland, emotionless.
I started this blog to demonstrate to potential clients what level of writing ability I possess. In the interest of not driving off would-be customers (and not flinching when I re-read my posts in a year), I try to write well yet still keep my topics and my discussion of them inoffensive. This practice can endanger an artist’s integrity
If I express an opinion, someone in the world will be annoyed or offended by that opinion, or at least convinced I’m a moron (which is not unlikely). However, if I try to please everyone, I’ll produce the “pudding-paste” writing described in Fahrenheit 451. I find myself searching for the line between being an artist devoid of self-censorship (like another of my heroes, GG Allin) and a mousey blogger plinking out letters no one wants to read.
I’ve often wondered if writers possess large egos—after all, they have to answer the question “Why would anybody care what I have to say?” Maybe people care because what’s said is done so in an interesting or poetic manner. No pressure there.
In the end, I suppose it doesn’t matter. I enjoy writing, most of the time, and I enjoy sharing my work with people. I suppose I have a certain duty to make that work interesting, and I can only do that by writing truthfully, which doesn’t mean abandoning tact, necessarily.