Confession: Being a writer can be terrifying.
Let me explain. The act of writing itself is not usually terrifying. The maelstrom of ideas coursing through our brains, like people running to catch a train at Grand Central Station, and the outpouring of those ideas onto the page in written word is usually an exciting and extraordinary task. Who knew that we could actually do this practical-yet-magical “thing” of communicating through and to each other like this! Stephen King, renowned bestselling author, once wrote an answer regarding writing in a short essay entitled What Writing Is:
“Telepathy, of course. It’s amusing when you stop to think about it—for years, people have argued about whether or not such a thing exists…have busted their brains trying to create a valid testing process to isolate it, and all the time it’s been right there…”
(from Stephen King’s On Writing, 2000)
Telepathy? For real?? Well, yes, actually. Writing allows for an intimate view into the mind(s) of another person, another organization, another community, another world. In the words of Sherlock Holmes, we might call the mental space where we meet each other in writing a “mind palace” of sorts. This kind of intimacy is taken for granted, however, because we’ve subsumed it under the ordinary human task of reading. Telepathy seems like such a cooler way of describing the process. Who doesn’t want to read someone else’s mind?
Of course, you’ll notice by now that I haven’t explained why writing strikes terror into my heart, and to the hearts of many. Deadlines, for one thing. You actually have to turn in the damned thing on time—and I’m sure that I don’t have to explain the nerve-wracking, nightmarish experience of finishing a ten-page paper for a professor during finals week the night before it’s due. (OK, I’ll admit, I’ve never procrastinated on an essay in my life, but it’s still a scary thought to consider!)
The other reason why writing can be frightening is the very reason that makes it so exciting: the chance to exchange those “mind palaces” with one another, to read (or telepathize?) words that could form the lifeblood of civilization, words that could be immortalized. Or, at the very least, words that provide an amusing, informative addition to one’s morning coffee or afternoon tea. One big question remains, then: if we—and by “we,” I really mean “I”—are so terrified of writing, why do we keep doing it? I truly believe that, even after all these years, we still have new stories to tell each other. We possess words that can make us laugh and cry and scream all at the same time. It’s a deeply human experience, to write and to have one’s writing read by an audience of peers and informed citizens.
With that, let me try this one last time. My name is Chris Marsala. I’m terrified of writing. Strangely enough, I’m looking forward to doing it for you all. Here's to the journey--or shall I say, The Odyssey?--ahead!
