2.19.2013

Seeking a Little Less Authenticity

I spent most of today rolling around a concept for a blog that was somewhat (very) introspective and self-indulgent... and then I stepped into the wonderful world of the internet and promptly changed my mind.

A long time ago, I had a discussion-bordering-heated argument with a former collaborator on the topic of authenticity in relation to writing. He claimed, first, that to be a good writer you have to experience life. Fair enough. If nothing else, getting out in the world and seeing what happens in it is pretty good at triggering those what if questions. He went on from there, though, and asserted that writing could only be worthwhile if it was authentic, meaning if the person writing had actual first-hand experience of the thing s/he was writing on. His assertion was that authenticity always trumped talent, and the only way a writer could evoke the proper response, could convey something accurately enough, was if it had actually happened to them.

I respectfully and quite adamantly disagreed.

Much of my time is spent reading, critiquing and, yes, judging the work of amateur writers. There's quite a lot of talent in the amateur sect; what I'm about to say is by no means to imply there isn't.

But.

Yes, but. Among that wide and motley assortment of individuals penning their works between jobs and classes and families, and maybe even at the occasional stoplight, there is a particular strand that latches onto this idea of writing the authentic experience (we're talking fiction here, by the way, non-fiction is a different kettle of fish entirely). Most of the time, this centres around emotion in an equation that looks something like this:

words + strong emotion = talent/something worth reading

No. Sorry. It does not. Your angst is not art. The ability to experience emotion does not make you an artist; it makes you human. The ability to evoke emotion in someone else with something you create makes you an artist. 

Most of the time, when it comes to this subject, I keep my mouth shut. Surprisingly, on occasion, apparently I come across as not quite so soft and fluffy, or very coddling of sensitive egos. I'll openly admit I don't have much patience for baby writers, and I'm more likely to say please never write anything but a grocery list again than sugarcoat the garish flaws with noncommittal statements. So, being aware of this aspect in myself, I stay well away from the "emotional" writers. They tend to be sensitive and, well, emotional. I don't take them seriously as writers because they don't take their writing seriously. 

This evening in my traipsing about the internet as my "reward" for being so very studious all weekend (this is what I'm going with; I dare you to prove otherwise), I came across this question:

Does a person's creativity go hand in hand with emotional, mental, or physical turmoil? 

Disappointingly, but expectedly, the yeses had the vote. This pretty much epitomises the issue I have with "authentic" writing, "emotional" poets writers, and that very troublesome stock phrase "write what you know".

One person cited, in support of the pro argument, the sheer volume of love poetry written (so much so, in my opinion, that finding a love poem these days that doesn't make you want to slit your wrists with a Hallmark card is a bit like waking up to a unicorn in your living room), because it's a universal experience (I'm paraphrasing). The same person went on to say: "Why is there so much "emo" poetry written? Because it is an intense feeling that is felt so completely that it is easy to describe in words." Someone else claimed that one could truly write about the feeling of grief without experiencing it first; anything else is just speculation.

Oddly no one mentioned how the experience of losing a thumb or an ear really boosted their creative output.




2.01.2013

Alliterati's Anti-V Day Competition

[I'm taking a moment out to do some shameless promotion for one of my favourite projects. Show some love for Alliterati. -SD]

It's February and we all know what that means, whether you love it or hate it.

Valentine's Day.

So, in the spirit of pink hearts and frilly cards, <em>Alliterati</em> is launching a 14 day contest beginning 1 February and ending midnight 14 February (whenever 14 February ends for you). The top three art and literature pieces will be featured in our upcoming issue (released 1 March). Please review all the requirements before you submit!

<u>Rules</u>
<ol>
<li> Must fit the anti-Valentine's Day theme. Interpret that however you wish. If you want write up a spectacular horror story, or turn a traditional love concept on it's head, go for it. Be as inventive and creative as you want. We like that. </li>
<li> All art forms accepted - film, photography, traditional/digital art, sculpture, crafts, poetry, prose, script, the list is endless. </li>
<li> No limit to the number of submissions, but please attach each submission as a separate file. </li>
<li> Prose should be no more than 1500 words; poetry no more than 40 lines; scripts no longer than 10 minutes. </li>
<li> Include a short bio in the body of the email. </li>
<li> Submissions should be emailed to <a href="mailto:editor@alliteratimagazine.com">editor@alliteratimagazine.com</a> with the subject header "ANTI-V DAY COMPETITION".</li>
</ol>

<u>Formatting Guidelines</u>
<ol>
<li> Literary submissions should be sent as a .doc or .PDF attachment. </li>
<li> Images must be at least 300 dpi and 1200X1200 pixels, formatted as .JPG attachment.</li>
<li> Include your name and the tile of your work in the file name. </li>
</ol>

Keep up with the competition on <a href="https://twitter.com/AlliteratiMag" title="Twitter" target="_blank">Twitter</a> (#antivday) for random quotes, inspiration and motivation found just for your enjoyment.

And don't forget: we are accepting submissions for Issue 10 until 10 February, so there's still time to get yours in! Check out our <a href="http://alliteratimagazine.com/submissions/">Submission Guidelines</a> to get yours in.