Thinking Through My Fingers
“Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers.” — Isaac Asimov
I’ve never been a fan of writing about myself. I don’t think there’s anything particularly interesting about me, and I don’t think there’s anything anyone necessarily needs to know. I’m not a fan of the modern world’s inclination to share all. I don’t like that opening yourself up to the world is celebrated. I don’t have any judgement toward those who do it (and I actually really enjoy learning about other people so please keep doing it), but others learning about me? Not really a fan.
That sometimes makes writing difficult. (Well, the sharing part at least.) I like to share because I like to discuss, and to discuss you have to share. And vanity acknowledged, it is nice to write something every now and then that a person enjoyed. But writing is a lot of sharing. It’s personal, especially when it’s from you and lacking any sort of prompt.
It’s one thing to be told to draft a memo for your company or an article about a topic. It’s another thing to write what it is that you’re feeling or your opinion about something. As someone who’s generally careful about who gets to hear my opinions, wanting to write and not wanting to share is a tough tightrope to walk.
Should I write and never share? Should I write under a pseudonym? Should I only write if it’s work related and just try to find more work related opportunities to write? Do I write by making up my own prompts? Do I say to hell with writing altogether?
I’m not quite sure. Maybe I should use writing as a tool to become more comfortable being open with people. If sports stars and celebrities and Instagram influencers are willing to show themselves off all of the time, maybe it’s something anyone can learn. Maybe I should get used to our slightly Orwellian world where we have cameras all around us all the time. Maybe I should be OK with putting out words that won’t always be accepted and could even offend. Because after all, I have to do it. I can’t not do it. I can’t not think through my fingers. The only problem is — where should I let that lead?
For some, this probably reads like treatise on writer’s block. And it’s not that. I’ve never believed in that. To paraphrase Seth Godin, people don’t get talker’s block, so why should they get writer’s block? I’ve also never had a problem writing. I can sit and type for a long time. (Whether or not that sitting and typing is anything worth reading is a different story, but it’s not hard to sit and type.)
The real block is more like ‘sharing block.’ What is it that I’m willing to share? Even if I skirt around the ultra-personal, some things I like to write about still revert to an oversharing that isn’t always the best to do. What do they say? Don’t talk about politics and religion at dinner? Well, what about on paper? Should you talk about politics and religion on paper?
Some people have professions where they can talk about politics and religion, and they might get quite a bit of backlash, but they’re often shielded by working for an organization that agrees with them and they have groups of people around them that have their backs. They also get paid for these words. If you’re getting paid for something, especially in a climate that incentivizes what’s shareable, it makes sense that you’d lean into that and maybe be more aggressive.
But that’s not the case for the individual. The individual is only shielded by his or her self, and his or her self is hardly a sufficient shield. There’s no larger organization to back you up and approve of what you have to say. There aren’t any teammates who will rally to your defense. (Maybe if you have a following online and you’ve developed folks that will rally to your defense.) Generally speaking, getting involved in the writing of actual opinions as an individual is a risk.
The risk is that those that engage or read or learn more about what you think might not approve. A lack of approval isn’t only harmful because no one likes to not be approved of, but because of the possible political ramifications. The world we live in is indeed a political place, speaking in the interpersonal sense. And if people who play political games dislike what you do, they’re more than willing to shut out opportunities or turn their backs.
But I guess that’s all part of the point. The point of the First Amendment is to guarantee our right to language. The point of it is so that we can speak out and speak for and speak against, even when it costs us. That act requires courage and conviction. And in some ways it is a responsibility and a duty of all of us. The right isn’t there for us to purposefully offend, but it is there for us to purposefully share, which could result in unintentionally offending.
So what will I do with this right? Will I wake up tomorrow and voice all my political opinions? Probably not. I’m still not sure I care to fight any political battles or let my writing go in that direction. But, I will remember, that even if I’m not hovering around the territory of politics or religion or anything else controversial, it’s possible I’ll upset, offend, annoy, or be met with the general rolling eyes of humanity. Either way, what can I do? I’ve got to think through my fingers.
