Language, Children!

I like the way that the written and spoken word moves around. I've never been one of these sticklers for the rules of language, I think that's just a sad excuse for limiting the creative power of our brains. If you've ever criticized someone by saying "That's not a word!" We're probably not friends. Not deep, good friends at least. Because if you've said that, I'd invite you to take a closer look at the words YOU are saying. What are you responding to? Did someone create sounds or symbols in an effort to communicate? Did you understand the communication? Do you believe in a reality where you think the things you see and hear are 'real'? Well, then, how is the communication 'not a word'? It exists, doesn't it? It served its purpose, didn't it? So what's the problem? If you say, "because it's not in the dictionary" or some such other nonsense, we're going to have a problem here.

Language is always changing. Even within my lifetime. It used to be that to 'film a movie' was an action. Filming was a verb that came from the material you were using to photograph action. The substance was called 'film'. The action was called 'filming' as a result. The finished product was literally a 'film'. Now none of that is true, but we still use the word. I would argue that anyone who claims to be 'making a film' isn't saying anything that makes sense. It's just pretentious bullcrap. OR, it's communication where the inaccuracy of not saying 'I'm producing a digital motion picture' is understood.

That's why I have a hard time editing my writing. I feel like there is some subtle, subconscious communication that I don't want to take away. I am realizing now, because no one ever troubles themselves to read any of my sloppy gibberish, that people assign a worth to the education and amount of actual work put into a piece of writing. Something is qualified as good if the source is reliable and worth the effort. This must be proven in order to have any reputable publishing house print one's work. One has to prove, in some way, that one's work is worth the effort. The easiest way is to have previous work to brag about. "I have an MFA from blah-de-blah," they all say. "I've been published here-and-there!" Never mention that you got published there because you know a guy from school, where you both struggled when you weren't deemed 'very good' by anybody. And also, it seems like EVERYONE I read has an MFA. So why is that impressive? Yeah, I get it. You have to have experiences and some sort of perspective with society to produce anything that is of value to it, and I have no argument against that. I'd rather read something really stellar from someone who worked outside the system to develop their creativity without the systematic structure that limits the possibilities for progress. A good example of this would be this guy named Albert Einstein. Another one is this dude named Shakeaspeare.

And while we're on the topic, Shakespear made up all kinds of words and phrases. The linguistics patrol probably would have been all, "Hey Willy! That's not a word! You can't do that! Why don't you clean this up, it's sloppy!" And now look at him. Sheesh.

So yeah, I know it's a harder road (mostly financially, but I've never really cared about that), but I'd just rather have limitations on my readership than on my creativity. I don't like structured writing, and I'm glad I don't have to worry about it anymore. It's not an excuse to work less (at least, it doesn't feel that way, sometimes I can't tell what my motivations are), but I'm working more now than I ever have, and I'm producing better things that are stretching out beyond what I could do if I had a deadline or a stated goal or word count. Clunky writing, misspelled words, and deteriorating sentence structure aside (all of which I DO feel like I have some grasp upon), the content is getting weird and wild and wonderful because I'm not worrying about anyone critiquing it. And, I suppose, I could always go back and clean it up. That is, if my brain would ever shut off. So yeah. To each his own, I suppose.