Writing Just Makes Sense.

Writing forces the writer to confront ideas and work out subconscious problems. Perhaps it is those two reasons that make writing an unenjoyable, yet pragmatic and valuable task. Monty Python member and comedy writer, John Cleese, affirms this same notion when he tells the story of losing a script and writing it anew. When he found the original script and compared the two, he discovered that he liked the second one better. Sometimes the first draft will be better, but surely the second or third will be an improvement on any writing because the ideas have been interrogated more thoroughly. The evidence is in the pudding.

When people try to organize themselves, some write lists: things to-do, groceries to buy, places to go, etc. Other people set schedules or take on similar tasks. Writing, however minor, takes place throughout the process; therefore, writing is key to organization. For example, whenever I am planning a new semester of English composition, I write ample notes across a whole spectrum of materials. Long before the semester actually starts, more typically at the end of the previous semester, I am surrounded by scraps of paper, highlighters, pens, and various books each marked with a multitude of sticky-notes and annotations. My initial planning is a haphazard approach that overflows from one work space into another and follows me home. The copious notes and the cumulative process of revising eventually allows for a finished lesson plan to emerge. 

Not all of my writing tediously evolves in the way that my lessons do, but the next closest example would certainly consist of any intellectual exercise such as these blog posts, a research paper, professional development documentation, or any creative fiction, with the later having the most profound effect on my thought process. Fiction, which is to say "imagination," only works if the elements are realistic. Likewise, the writing must motivate the reader and stir emotions, reasoning, and create bonds of trust in a way that the reader, whomever it may be, also identifies him/herself within the characters or plot. With so many moving components, the writer has little room for error, or so it often feels when composing. How many times do I delete entire words, phrases, sentences, or even entire pages? Too many. How many times do I rewrite until I've decided to abandon the idea completely? Too many. American author, Ernest Hemmingway supposedly said that writing is easy as long as the writer is willing to bleed. Even if the writing is not personal, emotional, or a window to the author's soul, it nonetheless drains oneself while in the process of composition. Writing takes time. Good writing takes even longer.

So now, let me return to the thesis: writing, while tedious and time consuming, will add value ten-fold to anyone's life as a tool for organization, thinking, and even legacy building. 

Human life is finite. There will never be enough time to read all the books, write all the stories, or experience all the experiences; however, one might hope to leave something behind before turning to dust. Writing is a time capsule and a time machine. It will preserve the ideas of the author in full display for future readers. Writing opens a direct channel into the mind of the poet, whose third eye sees the world in vibrant rainbows and violent thunderclouds. Writing inspires future poets by increasing vocabulary and vernacular imagery. What we write today will allow us to speak to generations hereafter, and as our dreams seem only that, tomorrow each is realized piece by piece through the passing of written knowledge. How cool is that!?!