Why Do You Write?
George Orwell. ‘Writing a book is a horrible, exhausting struggle, like a long bout of some painful illness. One would never undertake such a thing if one were not driven on by some demon whom one can neither resist nor understand.’
Why do you write?
George Orwell gives four reasons below.
They are taken from his book, ‘Why I Write.’
How many apply to you?
I can relate to (1) ‘to be remembered after death, to get your own back on the grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc.’
(i) Sheer egoism. Desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on the grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc. It is humbug to pretend this is not a motive, and a strong one. Writers share this characteristic with scientists, artists, politicians, lawyers, soldiers, successful businessmen — in short, with the whole top crust of humanity. The great mass of human beings are not acutely selfish. After the age of about thirty they almost abandon the sense of being individuals at all — and live chiefly for others, or are simply smothered under drudgery. But there is also the minority of gifted, willful people who are determined to live their own lives to the end, and writers belong in this class. Serious writers, I should say, are on the whole more vain and self-centered than journalists, though less interested in money.
(ii) Aesthetic enthusiasm. Perception of beauty in the external world, or, on the other hand, in words and their right arrangement. Pleasure in the impact of one sound on another, in the firmness of good prose or the rhythm of a good story. Desire to share an experience which one feels is valuable and ought not to be missed. The aesthetic motive is very feeble in a lot of writers, but even a pamphleteer or writer of textbooks will have pet words and phrases which appeal to him for non-utilitarian reasons; or he may feel strongly about typography, width of margins, etc. Above the level of a railway guide, no book is quite free from aesthetic considerations.
(iii) Historical impulse. Desire to see things as they are, to find out true facts and store them up for the use of posterity.
(iv) Political purpose. — Using the word ‘political’ in the widest possible sense. Desire to push the world in a certain direction, to alter other peoples’ idea of the kind of society that they should strive after. Once again, no book is genuinely free from political bias. The opinion that art should have nothing to do with politics is itself a political attitude.
Orwell died in 1950, but I believe his thoughts apply as much to the uncertain times during his life, as they do today.
I have a story to tell and my work can be boring long hours of looking out of a window.
But what I really want is my name in print, maybe that is vain of me (it probably is). But I actually want to be able to look at a shelf and say I did that, it will be something that can never be something to be taken from me.
I definitely relate to the point about wanting to get your own back. I can't remember a time when I haven't wanted to be an author, but my desire to become published (and therefore rich and successful, naturally) escalated recently because of a discussion with a tutor, who asked me what my thoughts were as to my future. When I said that I hoped to gain a degree in English and then become a writer, he gave this massive sigh and leant back in his chair, shaking his head. I quote: "You need a lot of imagination to be a writer. It's no use just being good at things, you need to be really creative. It's like being a chef; you may be a good cook but that isn't good enough if you want your own restaurant". I was infuriated! He barely knows me and while his advice is sound, I suppose, I thought it very rude to imply that I didn't have a hope in hell. So yes, I want to wave my bestseller in his face and laugh.
On a lighter note, perhaps, I want to write because I can't imagine myself doing anything else. Plus I can relate to Orwell's second and fourth point, especially.
I love stories. There, I said it.
It doesn't matter if it's a tall story from a drunk in a pub, something overheard in the hairdressers or a full-length novel. Stories are amazing, wonderful things and I love being the architect of something that could potentially make some smile, laugh or cry.
That would probably have been a bit warm and fluffy for Orwell.