I was watching a Netflix movie, War Machine, and there was one particular part that I thought a little more about than others. It was a scene where The Rolling Stones journalist was setting among troops, notebook in hand, writing away. When asked what he was doing he replied, “Writing, writers write”, a common phrase. The soldier replied, “Well I better like what you write.”
Two parts stuck with me.
One: How true it is, Writers write!
I have a little notebook I carry around with me everywhere. At any given moment something may resonate with me. So, regardless of if I am alone or in the company of the finest people, I will pull out my little book of notes and start jotting things down. It may be the aromas of the restaurant or tinkering sound of its kitchen. Perhaps the glimpse of a business man’s baby-blue penguin socks peeking out from the top of his elegant Oxford Berluti shoes. Maybe it’s the look in the eyes of a woman as she glances at her lover, him unaware of the adoring regard, or a hateful spat and petty quarrel between two people oblivious that they are being observed. All useful to me! Nothing going unnoticed and partly memorized in my mind. As a result, making its way into my notes.
Two: I won’t be able to please all my readers.
Fear is inevitably part of writing. I write fiction. It is a form of writing for entertainment not for facts or even truth. That being said, in a time when I feel like people are always trying to prove a point or have an agenda, it can be nerve racking when you want to tell a story just to tell the story. How will readers judge my book? Will they judge me by my characters? I made a statement at dinner the other night, “Don’t judge the writer for what the character says or does! It’s the characters flaw, I just write about it.” None the less, I am aware and have prepared myself for the negative people who think I owe it to them, that they like what I have to write. …and I write anyway.