Sentence vs Cents

Artists make it. (Funny term, no? “Make it.”) Some folks, I can’t help but wonder how, but someone enjoys their music or art or medium of expression, their manner of interpretation, of caprice, of notions, the known and the unknown. Perhaps my favorite country singer and songwriter, Miranda Lambert, is an example of this “making it,” and continuing to do so. With the time she has been performing and writing, the quality of her music has not diminished; sure, her music isn’t the same as it was ten years ago, but the songs do not feel forced.

Perhaps that is what makes an artist an artist: patience. Words, music, paint strokes, carvings, welding, all of these can be forced. The products can be okay, sometimes pretty darn good, but the art lacks patience, which I would argue is a form of love. The best art is not forced.

This is why I don’t believe I ever could or will be a writer. No. I cannot and will not rely on writing for income; the writing will become desperate. Chasing the cent rather than the sentence—that is desperate writing. Not because life is about money, but because it takes money to survive in this world. And I fear that if my motive is money, my writing will not come from a healthy source.

This writing may seem desperate. Maybe it is. Maybe my writing on this blog is a desperate attempt to keep practicing so that someday I can maybe create something more worthwhile and send it to a publisher and then another and then another, until I can find it a home. But then again, when I am searching for a topic, writing and erasing, typing and deleting, not saving, crumpling, saying to hell with it all, I put my work aside. Not today, not this, give it a rest. I’ve practiced. I’ve tried. But this is not for the blog. Whoever my audience is, shrinking, growing, fluctuating, present upon fancy, non-existent, I will give them better; I can do better. I may make a penny for a published article, for which I will be grateful, if that day comes, but I do not want that to be my drive.

*Naturally, there is a place for monetary driven writing, and I respect those who can and do write to support their life, the life of their families, etc. Writing to support of one’s family, for lack of resources, so far as I’m concerned, is no longer desperate writing, but writing out of love. (For writing, yes, but moreover for people.)