True writer vs internet wannabe

I am known to be someone who is okay with words. (In writing. Not in person. Veeeeeery awkward in person.) I am fine grammatically; I know juuust enough words to not have to repeat them too much; I can sometimes give shape to my mundane thoughts in a way that’d make you laugh, or, at least keep you reading till the very end, or, middle (hopefully). Other times, I’ll churn out such epic horseshit that they’ll be met with what they deserve: silence. Not one click of a button. No reactions. Embarrassed, I’ll remove them within an hour of having posted them. I’ll wait an hour, you know. On the off chance that it’s a “sleeper hit”.

Where DO I post them? Facebook. A place where long posts are most visited by their arch nemesis, the “scroll down”. Hence, if you WANT people to truly read your stuff, what do you have to do? Shorten them. Keep them within the 2 cm x 6 cm rectangle (This should tell you that measurements is another one of my strong suits.). The “Read More” sign is a curse. Keep away, as much as you can. ’Cause millennials, like you, have short attention spans. Also, precision is an art. It’d serve you well to practise it.

So I do, as much as I can. Bear in mind, like most things I do in life, I fail at it. Like, reeally badly. Word limit, nope, not my friend. Never, never my friend.

You know what else isn’t my friend?
Research.
Reading.
Working on improving my “craft”.
Work, period.

This, I realize, is what separates me, from the ones truly aspiring to be writers.

Some people over the years have generously appreciated my “writing” and have suggested I produce regular blogs, or, try to get published in a newspaper. Take my “talent” seriously, you know?

With the exception of one time when I did try, my responses to these suggestions have mostly been, “I’ll think about it”. Here’s why.

Most things in life, require discipline. Writing is no exception. What makes a great writer? How’d I know? What makes a GOOD writer? Beats me.

But here’s a start.
Reading.

The more you read, the better you get at writing. You’re introduced to new styles, new words, new concepts, the lot.

Research, of course, is another great addition to write-ups. The more facts and figures you include in a piece, the more refined it gets. It provides the reader with a detailed perspective.

Last, but not the least, repetition. Practice. Aka, improving your craft. Like, writing an article everyday. And, not just about what you know, but, on different subjects, forcing you to get out of your comfort zone, and doing the two things I’ve mentioned above.

I have read just about 36 books in my life. And no, not the classics. Well, maybe two or three, ’cause I was SUPPOSED to, in school. Never in my life was reading a “hobby”. I’d go to the end of a book and check the number on the last page. I’d think of it as the number I have to beat. I would not be sad at the end of a book. I would not wish it went on further, even if it was just 50 pages. I’d feel relief, at having been done.

I like reading articles, though. It’s a deception of sorts. For years into my undergrad, I kept reading Buzzfeed-like blogs on Cracked.com and consciously deluding myself into thinking I was doing something productive. Minimum guilt procrastination.

Because I don’t read, I don’t learn styles other than the ones I’ve learnt to imitate from blogs and “list” articles. I don’t learn words other than the ones I’ve stumbled upon from TV shows. I lack polish. I don’t get to appreciate Victorian, Shakespearean, Romantic, or whatever era that existed before the Internet. I don’t, and I don’t care to.

Because I don’t put in the work to write something, everyday, I don’t improve. Even if I DO decide to work on my “craft”, I will not venture beyond what I know. I will lazily scribble out the latest mediocre musing on my mind. Probably something about a social issue I feel “strongly” about, which I have total superficial knowledge of. I will not force myself to learn something knew, not even about the things I “love”. I will not study a subject deep down. I will not. Because that’ll will require work. And if there’s anything the internet has taught me, you don’t need work to get attention.

As much as it allows truly aspiring artists to show off their stuff, the Internet also creates a space for those who just want their 5 minutes of fame. Those that feed off of your very generous one or two “thumbs up”s. Those who get to live their meaningless life as a couch potato because they know, maybe somewhere along the way, they’ll post some other random thing on their mind and be appreciated for it by a few people.

These little bouts of praise will provide them with the temporary validations of worth they crave for, but will leave them mentally, analytically, and creatively lazy. In reality, this person may be someone with real, deep psychological fears of failure, crippling them from ever getting off their ass and pursuing something with all of their heart. But whether this person chooses to push beyond that and take control of their destiny, is on them. They know what it takes. The possible courses of action. They choose not to. Because, it’s easier that way. Because, it’s less about fear than about sloth. You really are lazy, mate.

As such, you get what you deserve. You get a few “Haha”s on your Facebook posts. You get a few claps on medium. Your answer gets upvoted on Quora, sometimes. Do you deserve to get published in a newspaper, or magazine, or anything that might require other people to judge your talent? No. You do when you put in the work. When you try. When you wait patiently to make your piece a good one, through in-depth research and genuine introspection of your work. Until then, you’re fine where you belong. You stay there, in your comfortable bubble, and let the true flagbearers of passion do their job.