Purpose of a Story—of a Writer? · 11:34am Feb 26th, 2023
Forgive me. This will be a strange blog. There's no point to it—or, at least, it didn't begin with one. They say there are two kinds of writers: those who write with a point in mind and stumble upon it by chance. I think you can always find something to drive home about once you start writing or talking enough. You pluck words from the abyss and begin to notice a hidden order to them. From there, you put the pieces together—making up reasons and points as you do so—hoping for a good final image.
Some writers write like that. They go into a story knowing close to nothing about it beyond vague feelings and impressions. In fact, that is the reason why they write. If they were to know the reason beforehand, they would feel no compulsion toward composition. This is the opposite of the people who know what they want to write, and wish to write it as effectively as possible. Everything is planned and plotted out. All logical problems have been handled in advance. Everything—the order of points and examples—has been sequenced perfectly.
Sequencing is something I only learned about recently.
Today will be a ride.
Best to buckle your seat belts.
AI writing, art, voices, and everything else have been going kinda crazy lately. I didn't realize how bad it was until my friends were sending custom stories and art my way. While I found it interesting, I wasn't too taken, finding it more 'cute' than anything serious. However, watching the President and former presidents doing the Call of Duty Zombies easter eggs, I was scared.
The humour is top-notch, and watching Trump, Biden, and Obama being gamer buddies has been something that I didn't know I needed. However, following that brought the question of, in a world where AI creates better content than humans—what is left for us?
Their speed is outmatched. Their quality and the human element are debatable, but soon some ground can be covered. In a world where your outline/prompt can become a full novel/script, what is left for us to do other than consume? Our only saving grace is the human element. However, it will become debatable how much that really matters.
When it comes between books between AI and humans, and the human element is the only divider, what will be the difference and sales and impact? Let's leave that question to those smarter than us. In a world where humans no longer need to create such content—what will be the reason for us to do so?
I think it will be for the simple pleasure of creation. Even though an AI can take your idea, iron out the problems and the kinks, place the beats in the best order, all that junk—there is a certain puzzle in doing all that yourself that is entertaining.
Lately… writing has been like mountain climbing for me. Something that seems impossible and pointless and that will change nothing about your daily life even in its success. However, there is a compulsion toward it anyway, and you follow through.
I think in a world of content generation, we will continue to write and create for the simple sake of conquering that story. Because the act of mere output will be taken by the bots, it will fall on the humans to write stories that are important to them.
Some of us have written stories for the views, comments or payments. Many people write sex or clop because it's a good way to get attention. Some people write mostly for the bell on the top of the website. There is nothing wrong with that. However, with the sheer output an AI could do, business for such people might become troublesome.
But this leaves me to question myself.
Why do I write?
What I have found going through this life is that the same question can evoke different answers as time goes by. It isn't that one answer is more correct than another—rather, that answer was the truth for that time. In my youth, I always felt a compulsion toward writing.
I can't explain it. But whenever the word 'writing' or 'writer' was thrown about, I would pique up. It wasn't that there was a writer I wanted to be like—or that I wanted to write my own Jurassic Park. I never had such ambitions. Rather, it was the very act of being a writer that I felt some compulsion for.
That explained me at the start. It felt like I was destined or imprinted to be one. Things seem bigger and more important during that time. However, later on, you begin to realize such things are rubbish.
Why did I begin to write?
Because I read a lot of stories, and had ideas for others I wanted to read, but when I tried to search for them, I found that they weren't written. That made me realize I had to write such stories for myself. Back then, I was convinced that my stories would just be about the hero carrying the princess home. For whatever reason, I was really into romance stories where the male carries the female—or the reverse.
I figured my stories would be that and only be that. But, as I wrote, I found that wasn't sustainable. My impression of writing wasn't correct. It was only through writing that I would discover what writing was about. I wrote during that time to write stories that I wanted to read. That, and to be a part of an amazing community.
Down the line, like some writers, I wanted to become more. Become more of a person, a figure, and become more of a writer. I wanted more followers and views, and to be regarded as something. So I wrote for the market, and tried all the things that would net me success. In some regards, I succeeded, and others, I failed.
However, like most, I learned that such 'fame' was worth nothing. I always placed value on the writing and the stories—but my intent wasn't always pure. After reaching a point of 'ultra-attention,' I found that it did nothing for me. More than that, once I stopped writing, none noticed.
There are other writers on this site, with more talent and views and followers than me, who simply go away, and none notice. It doesn't matter if you write or don't write. If you're here or if you're gone. Once I realized that writing for a number meant nothing, a lot of my motivation went away.
Others who wrote for stats found themselves in the same boat, and have mostly given up writing as a result. Our intent began as pure, but as we were sucked into the game, found ourselves somewhat transformed. We wrote things we normally wouldn't have written—but we still had our element inside of them. However, were it not for the desire of stats, much of our content would either be different… or not at all written.
Many write for stats and are pleased with that.
There is nothing wrong with that.
I recall a debate I had with an unpleasant person once. They said you must always write for your own sake—and never for any other reason. I don't think they knew what they were talking about. Anon VS RGRE is a story I would never have written normally—but surprisingly turned into a tale I enjoyed. I also found a new element in writing that story as well.
I think you're allowed to write as you please, and based on the results of your creation, decide to change or remain the same until a greater compulsion urges you to do differently. Other opinions are good. Even understanding ones you do not agree with will do a lot to broaden your knowledge and you as a person. However, I cannot condone someone who tells someone how they ought to write.
You can encourage and influence and share your thoughts. But none have the right to tell people what is the right or wrong way to write. Part of what makes a writer unique is that which they discover for themselves. Discover your rights and wrongs—and listen to what others have to say. Decide afterward the best course.
Why did I write after that?
I wrote for betterment. I wanted to be a good writer—a proper one. Someone who was someone. I wanted my stories to read like 'real' stories. Things that were believable. Despite my readings and learnings, I always feel like someone winging it. No matter what I do, despite my proficiency at it, I will never have it down to pat.
I can never speak with certainty—only impressions.
My biggest fear is to ruin the possible good work of others with my views.
This might be a bit self-indulgent to assume I have that power and sway, and on the reverse end, that my views could actually help or improve other works… but I do not like being the deciding factor. Instead, I present my thoughts as kindly and as 'theory-based' as possible. It's my preference for the other person to truly decide things for themselves.
But I wanted to be a proper writer. So, I tried writing properly. I am still in this stage of my life, and do not know its end.
I'm currently writing a story about a breezie that stayed behind from the pack to spy on Fluttershy. It's your usual fun-size shenanigans. I had written Held Hostage with the belief that all things would come to you during composition. However, after the fact, when I asked myself how I could have made the story better, a number of beats jumped at me.
They weren't needed beats, but they would have improved the story.
So I did something new with this new story. I would try a different kind of outline.
First, I wrote a basic summary, creating a framework for the story. I was able to feel out its shape and even nail its theme in the first try. A breezie stays behind to stay with Fluttershy. Is he known or unknown? Known is nice and they can be cute… but it leaves no room for development.
But if it's unknown, a new angle can be had, and it leads for development. I was able to work through that problem. That leaves the story with two main sections. Unaware, and aware. Despite having a basic shape to the story, I decided to try out a theory.
How much more was waiting to be dug out from the premise?
I created a wish list for each section, and while at work, tried to invent things that could happen. Sadly, I was able to fill up a few pages of content. When I thought myself finished, another idea came, and it killed me. Even now, I'm not sure I exhausted every possibility.
Once the 'aware' and 'unaware' sections were filled with ideas, the next step in the process was to erase and condense. Because you should never restrict yourself while brainstorming—easier to create when 'hot' instead of 'cold'—you'll write more than you sometimes need.
Therefore, go over all that is written, and erase things that are weak. After that, join ideas. Some beats, you'll find, work together. Once done, you'll be left with a strong list. You have the plot of the story ready to go. Or, at the very least, enough beats to work off. Problem is: how do they fit together?
You were plucking ideas from the abyss. Now, you have to find the hidden cohesion that connects them. How do you do this? First, you could write another summary, hoping everything fits as it should. This is possible, but runs the risk of some ideas being forgotten. It could be said that those forgotten ideas were done so for a reason.
This part of the process is called sequencing. There are many ways to go about it.
If you're working from a notebook, you can use numbers next to the ideas to jot where they come together. Ideas that feel like they happen later in the story get a 7 or an 8. Stories that feel like they happen early get a 3 or a 4. Through this, a web will shoot through the ideas, and slowly, you will see a plot filling the spaces between them.
In software like Scrivener, you have a board with bullet cards on them, and you can place them into whatever order you please. Either way works. The end goal is having an order to the beats that feels good enough. This is sequencing.
Why all this trouble? Something called to you about an idea.
This process allows you to mine everything that could be attractive about it. You see the full potential of the thing. With such, you can be sure that story was everything it could be. That you really discover and put everything to use.
Once the order of beats is done, you have another choice, which is writing a second outline/summary, or choosing to write freely from there. Many write for the thrill of not knowing what happens next. By creating a second outline, you refer to your ordered beats to create a perfect representation of that.
However, in choosing just to write, you discover how everything sticks together through composition. You must feel out and decide what route is right for you.
But this brings me to my question.
Why did I write this story? Or have the desire to write it? Because the image of something struck a passion in me. None can deny that passion doesn't die the tiniest bit when you outline, plan, and order things out. However, I feel like you can find a new angle to write from, or leave the outline long enough for it to become fresh again in the future.
Why do I want to write this idea? Not for anyone else—not even myself. The story has transformed somewhat from something I would read. Why? Because I followed what would be best for the story… even if that runs outside my personal interests.
Why do I want to write this story? Because I wish to complete that notion that was struck inside of me. I want to develop it, completely mining its potential, completing it, then doing the same with the next project—and the one after that. I want to feel like I did everything I could for that story, and that there is no unturned stone.
I have no desire to read that story. It will not do well because it is fetish-based. And I do not care for comments or views. None really share how a story impacts them—or if it even does so. I write before an abyss, and all my words disappear into the void. Yet, I write anyway, because I must.
Would I enjoy the process more if I wrote for the sake of writing, without care of 'perfecting' an idea? Most likely. It's possible most of those ideas I mined would have come to me during composition and the time outside of it. There is also the chance that none of them would have come—or would be ordered as such.
But do I write to enjoy the session? For the pleasure of finding all that out for myself? Or do I write now to see if I can improve, do something different, or break free from the usual quirks that define me? More and more, I'm buried in confusion and mystery, without a guide or help. It is my strange, lonely trek, of which is worth no glance.
But I can't help but compare it to climbing a mountain, despite success or failure, learning what you will on the upward path. It doesn't matter if you make it to the top. It could almost be argued you'd be better to not make the trip anyway. Yet those like me will proceed anyway. You will try, fumble and fail, and declare the whole effort a waste of a lifetime.
But you will still keep doing as you do, even though there are better things, because this is what you are.
~ Yr. Pal, B_25
Woah...
Well I hope you're doing alright