Writing Isn’t The Enemy; The Rules Are.
Why do we write? Do we write for the purpose of self-fulfillment or do we write out of pure necessity? Do we write because it gives us an opportunity to explore ourselves in a more intimate way or do we write because it is expected of us in a set curriculum? Independent of our reasons to write, they all, unfortunately, come with a set of fears — the fears of breaking “the rules.” No matter if the set boundaries are restricting us stylistically, grammatically, creatively, or expressively, all of them not only push people away from writing but also eliminate the possibility of someone falling in love with it in the first place. Writing is a form of expression and for many — once restricted — the desire to create seizes into a consistent paranoia over potential negative consequences. Writing is insanely critical to humans as it possesses the ability to vastly develop our minds creatively, critically, and socially. It is tremendously disappointing to see people fall out of love with writing out of fear of limitations that should not be situated in the first place.
Whether it’s a poem, short story, argumentative essay, fairy tale, etc. when writing, we always strive to create a piece that is eloquent, interactive, intriguing, but most importantly a composition that does not deviate far from set regulations. Our initial collision with these rules dawns on us when we are first taught to write. We get familiarized with rules, such as, “never start your conclusion with the phrase ‘in conclusion,’” “always avoid clichés or analogies,” “your thesis should be distinctly located at the end of your introductory paragraph,” and, the most absurd one of all, “never include personal pronouns in your writing.”
For a very long time, I blindly obliged to those “unspoken spoken” rules. They are spoken to us only in the beginning of our writing endeavors and are later remained unsaid under the pretenses that we should be familiar with them by now. I took them as is and started to manipulate and cautiously structure my writing — while tip-toeing around those set regulations — with a fear of overstepping the boundaries. My head was constantly buzzing with bees that stung with every “I” used in a sentence or with every analogy brought in to elevate my main point. After years of subjected pain and many scars/wounds, it got harder and harder to not just enjoy writing, but to force myself to create. I realized that writing has become more like a chore — something that lacks pleasure and done out of necessity — and less like a passion or hobby. But eating away inside of me was the question, “But did it have to be this way?”
What is it exactly that is so bad about including myself into my writing? What is the difference then between something written by me or by someone else? Does it really matter who wrote the piece if it has to be kept general for the sake of an unbiased view? All these rules are depersonalizing writing to the point where it not only loses the unique voice and mind of the writer, but also loses the irreproducible values and ideas that come from within every author. The whole reason writers like Charles Dickens, Jane Austen, Shakespeare, Emily Brontë, etc. are adored, loved, and highly praised, isn’t purely on the basis that they touch on issues that are continuously relevant — even though it does play a major role — but because it takes a single glance to recognize that it is, in fact, their writing and not someone else’s.
To gain back control over my voice — which seemed to deteriorate with every new piece written — I decided to analyze it from the perspective of a parent/child relationship. Growing up, all of us had to abide to certain rules set by our parents: “You can’t stay out past 9pm” or “Before you can do anything fun, your homework must be finished.” But now, as an adult, all those rules have faded away and I have gained freedom to find myself within this world with the only limitations being my own. What if all these set regulations in writing are just posing as parents whose purpose is to protect, guide, and educate us into fully functioning members of society? Once that goal has been accomplished, it is now up to us whether or not we should stick to those rules or venture out into the terrifying but invigorating unknown.
Let’s face it, the unknown is often daunting, frightening, and even paralyzing. But isn’t that the thrill of it? The overwhelming drive that continuously makes life exciting? The key to a “never-ending” and “ever-lasting” love and desire to write is hidden within bleak, crumbling grey walls and once they are broken, you may proceed into a world filled with your interpretations and rules. In this new profound and expressive world, you will find that you are in control of what you want to say and even what you don’t want to say. You may include as many personal pronouns, not include your thesis until the very end, and even include images if that’s what your writing looks like to you.
The whole point of writing is to create a space where you could be intrinsically and unapologetically you. Alone, face-to-face, with a blank page that does not judge or criticize. Writing doesn’t just have to be for the purpose of academia or work — Writing is universal. It has the ability to shape-shift into whatever you want or need it to be. If you need a place to elevate your frustrations, writing is there for you. If you need a place to express your fears or worries, writing is there for you. If there is a secret no one could know, writing is there for you. Writing is your most empathetic friend and simultaneously your most loyal companion.
We often forget that writing is our inborn best friend. We fear writing and even neglect it because it repulses us under the pretenses that it could only be “their way” and never mine. How can we share our most intimate thoughts with something that terrifies and limits us? In high school, we are taught that when we write there should be a distinct introduction, roughly four body paragraphs, and a clear defined conclusion. Even though I agree that this structure has great benefit for people who are just getting introduced to the vast world of writing, I do not, however, believe that it has any benefit for those who have been roaming the writing grounds for years.
I haven’t explicitly stated all the exact “rules,” “restrictions,” or “guidelines” because there is a never-ending amount of them infiltrated everywhere and infested in everything. Every professor, employer, publisher, etc. has a set of their own limitations. There are cases where these rules should be implemented; For example, in formal writing or scientific writing, but even then — I think — there is some space for every one of us to include that little bit of substance that makes it distinctly ours — makes it inimitable.
In comparison to drawing, singing, dancing, and other forms of art, writing seems to be one with most limitations. Yet, with the exact same — if not greater — potential for a completely free form of expression. I say to take all those combined restrictions as a rule of thumb. It is beneficial to be aware of them but never let them scare or push you away from creating something that has the ability to not only decorate and fill your life with color, but also flip someone else’s world upside down and invert it inside out. Many food dishes, on their own, are often bland. But, once you add some spice into them, it transforms and uplifts the whole taste and experience of the meal — same notion is applicable to writing. Go ahead and add a little spice into your writing and watch how your taste buds transform and crave for more.
