Into the Fire

Is it possible to try too hard? When it comes to writing, I think it is. Mostly because I’ve done it myself. At some point writers just “gotta be me” when they write. Especially in the posting factor on blogs or in comments.

Everybody who’s endeavored to keep a blog going for over a year knows how difficult it is to sustain a fresh topic, a fresh voice, even a fresh attitude. That old familiar “There’s nothing new under the sun” remains a nagging truth after a single subject such as writing has crossed every bridge to arriving at something—anything—clever, profound, interesting, or instructional. Ad nauseam.

But it’s the writing itself I’m talking about here. Today. Some writers post or comment with zeal, humor, their reality, and come undone about certain topics (for me: politics). But others post as if they’re entering contests for the loveliest prose, literary masterpieces, and/or seeking acclaim from the professional crowd visiting specific sites.

Okay, maybe it’s just the way they are. I don’t know them all personally. Sometimes, though, the “audience” seems to respond with awe like the individual is sure to be “the next big thing”. Admiration and praise shower their posts or comments and suddenly it’s like being at a rock concert.

Hey, don’t get me wrong. I think it’s exciting when someone writes with a unique voice or delivers a profound post or comment. And it can even be enriching, but after awhile sometimes a post is just a post, you know? It doesn’t really warrant a drooling, praiseworthy response.

I know it’s the desire of every writer to be the best they can be. No one wants to put schlock on a page unless it’s called for in a character or situation. Everyone wants to fine tune and yield an admirable result for those who like or enjoy our approach, our voice, our genre. But honestly I’ve read books that felt like they were competing with an unknown force—like they had to match and/or surpass their competition either by adhering to the current rules like they’re the gospel of literature or by creating the most unique metaphors to ever grace the pages of a novel.

Could be I’m the only one who feels this way . . .

Lord, keep me understanding it’s all about you. You. Not me. Or anyone else. In the Name of Jesus, Amen.