A quote from Le Guin (out of the many from her that helped shaped me into the writer I am today) goes:
Socrates said, “The misuse of language induces evil in the soul.” He wasn’t talking about grammar. To misuse language is to use it the way politicians and advertisers do, for profit, without taking responsibility for what the words mean. Language used as a means to get power or make money goes wrong: it lies. Language used as an end in itself, to sing a poem or tell a story, goes right, goes towards the truth.
A writer is a person who cares what words mean, what they say, how they say it. Writers know words are their way towards truth and freedom, and so they use them with care, with thought, with fear, with delight. By using words well they strengthen their souls. Story-tellers and poets spend their lives learning that skill and art of using words well. And their words make the souls of their readers stronger, brighter, deeper.
From the very beginning, it has baffled me how amazingly easy it is to write disingenuously, which might be odd coming from a fiction writer–a fantasy fiction writer at that. Yes, we make up scenes, characters, worlds. But it doesn’t mean we can’t write honestly, given the confines of the story we’re about to tell. It’s not just about internal logic within the body of the work (though that’s important, too), but in making sure that everything that makes it to the final page are words I believe in. It has become the first rule in anything I produce: within the context of what I’m doing, do I mean this? Have I written this sentence, these words, with integrity?
I do not, by any stretch of imagination, consider myself a ‘good writer.’ I, for one, lack the education. I have an associate’s degree in engineering technology in a college that is well-known in these parts as brutally straightforward (every single class was meant to prepare you for employment, there were no minors). I’ve never taken a creative writing class, not in Canada or the Philippines. I don’t come from a background of people with literary acumen, if they even read at all; I grew up in the slums of Manila and reading was considered an expensive luxury. Going further back, my family hails from rural Bicol, where the values I’ve picked up include hard work, honesty, and respect (and not throwing wet toilet paper on ceilings for fun, apparently that shit sticks).
I’ve carried those values to the work I do today–every story I write, every word I put down in the shaping of it, I do with care. I think that’s why I’ve gotten a bit of a reputation as a writer who does not waste words. I don’t like insulting my readers. I want to believe that someone who flips through my pages are doing it for part of the same reason I wrote the book in the first place: to discover a story and go on a wild, heart-wrenching journey with living, breathing characters. This is the promise I make with every book I write. And so my books aren’t really supposed to be ‘thinking’ books, not at first–they’re supposed to be books that make you feel, where every information will be presented to you in time, when the story needs it the most. Be patient, I want to tell readers sometimes. This entire story is a design: enjoy the process. There are reasons for everything–you’ll see. I promise you, it will all fall into place.
It’s not surprising, then, that this kind of writing does not mesh well with disingenuous reading. That people do it at all is beyond my control, but as someone who takes this craft seriously, it’s disheartening to see someone who doesn’t. That, I suppose, is one of the many eye-opening realizations I’m having lately. I’m not sure I have the brain or emotional capacity to tackle everything else.
