I don’t know if what I do is normal for someone that fancies themselves as a writer, but I tear up almost everything I write, and when I can’t tear it up because it’s digital, such as this blog post, then I simply hit delete, wipe, and empty trash.
Most of what I wrote between 2008 and 2010 is either hidden, re-saved as a draft, or has returned to the source Neo style, with no trace but that which was left in the memory of the audience.
Why do I do it?
Because everything I write sucks.
No, I’m not being facetious, and no, I’m not having a pity party, I really mean it.
The truth is that what lies at the top layers of my writing mind, or that which is easily accessible, is just icing. It doesn’t serve any real purpose other than to make you fat.
However, to get to the bottom of the cake, where you’ll find the meat, you have to either eat the icing or scrape it off. My act of writing is exactly that – what I scrape off to get to the center of the cake.
The second part of the problem with writing is that most of what we write, as a blogging and writing community, is trivial and useless. Productivity can go to hell. Minimalism can eat it. Lifestyle design can die in a fire.
We blog and write shit because it’s easy. What isn’t easy is sitting down and writing something memorable, timeless, and worth reading.
This is why my writing sucks, and why it always will until I get to the end of the book and realize that there aren’t any more pages to tear away.