I often write short notes. These notes express my opinions on a miscellany of things. Why do I never try to post or publish any of these notes? I realize I am held back by two major reasons, two reasons which defy each other. The first of these reasons is that I have a tendency to be magisterial, to express myself in a tone that suggests that I have arrived at a definitive conclusion to the matter, that I have closed the loop. This is a foible. The second reason is that none of the non-fiction articles I have written has ever achieved a state of completion that I found satisfactory. I am always adding or detracting.
I find that by my poor writing, ideas extraneous to my essential views find suggestion. There is also the innate realization that I cannot, will not, say all I wish to, a direct consequence of the native inexpressibility of our human condition. Thus do the two reasons defy each other. It is not as if my considerations of these two reasons make me lose any sleep. In a world of such staggering numbers, and by inference, perspectives, no one can claim to have seen the end of the matter, nor can one see the end of any matter, even at the cost of exhausting his élan vital in the pursuit of which.
If we assumed an honesty of self, everyone’s opinion would be his perspective. Simple is it? But is there not such a thing as a change in perspective, can not a man’s present opinion on any issue develop further with the passage of time, or be even completely overhauled? Is it not possible that he ceases to have any opinion on the issue? I have written all these, preempting criticism, I hope that my short note is read with a considering eye, that the reader understands that this is merely my opinion, and it could all be entirely false. That I am simply blubbering, that I might in time disown these views, and that I mean no one deliberate harm. “I have always felt that we all possess a vital force which drives us to our accomplishments.
That this vital force has its effect most felt when we apply ourselves to tasks most suited to us. That quite apart from this vital force which belongs to each of us, there is the current of life, of the life that goes on around us, and a current that we sometimes ought to resist, and sometimes surrender. A little more on this vital force; all our energies for work and play, devoted to mundane or heroic tasks, spent in contemplation or dissipation, or in idleness or activity is drawn from that well, the exhaustible well given to us by nature and God. How best then to apply this force to maximum effect?
What tasks are most suited to us? In my own peculiar way, I have come into the realization that I am a writer. Everyone probably has a sense of the things which when doing they are happiest, most comfortable and most importantly, willing to constantly improve upon, to master, to perfect. (This is not merely about the arts or sport; although because of the way it is represented in modern life, as a deviation from the regular path, certifying dazzling success for those few who will merit it, and little or nothing for the rest, makes it a pronounced example). One may take up carpentry and make an art of it, or bird-watching, and make a science of it. Every occupation is sanctified by a devotion to it. Now, in spite of this stated fact that most people have a strong idea of what they do best, why do they not do it? But one can only answer for oneself. It is often said that writers in Africa have regular daytime jobs, and that their great works were written in spite of their busy schedules.
In one sense this is a complement to these courageous people, and in another sense, it is the tragedy of African literature. One imagines what may have been. I do not think literature is a hobby, to be done in one’s spare time or on Saturdays. I have always looked at it with a serious, critical eye, worthy of the investment of every ounce of myself. Most other activities represent themselves to me as a distraction, a sapper of my vital force. All the same, and in defiance of all these theories of mine, I took a degree in engineering. Why did I not turn my back from that path? I possessed no great aptitude for it, I failed courses regularly, and I tried to cheat my way through. Was I not strong enough to swim against the currents of life at that time? Was it caused by A longing for financial security? Did i not have confidence in my literary gifts? It is a combination of many things.
All the same, it appears that I am watching a tragedy in which I am an actor, and that I am acting against my better judgment, that I am travelling the same path which I have always privately repudiated, keeping eggs in different baskets. A lot of writers in Nigeria may have similar stories, or may not. Many young writers have shaved time off a busy career to write novels. Successful or not, it is an achievement in itself. But I can say with certainty that those novels are unlikely to be particularly good ones. And if they be good, the writer had better in him. They have divided their vital forces. (Of course one might work in a field related to literature, such as taking a teaching position or jobs that neither imposes significant responsibilities on one’s brain nor takes up too much of one’s time. A certain amount of distraction is necessary for one to be able to focus).
My eyes once fell upon an old ad by General Motors- Do one thing, do it well- it requires no further explanation. I know a professor of engineering who also writes fiction. I have passed my eye- as well as my judgment- over two of his novels. I do not know enough about engineering, but I can say that his books are not good. We had a few chats, he spoke about his passion for writing, and how he sets out time every day to write etc. he had great enthusiasm. Was I to feel sad for him? He was rich, successful and respected; he was a professor of engineering. I think He may have been better served had he applied all his forces to engineering, or applied his forces to each of them not simultaneously, but one after the other, just as in the case of Joseph Conrad, who took first to the sea, then to the novel. He who will make his mark upon any field cannot afford to be a dilettante, a dabbler.
I like your stuff…
Different factors make a writer, retain a daytime job besides writing. Some perhaps even discovered their ability to write much later in their life, some never intend to make a big deal out of it.
Anyways I’m wondering how this write-up finally defied both your reasons listed above @drzhivago
first reason…. i tend to write like i see the whole picture.
second reason- i know i can never see the whole picture.
Now I see why talked and talked about Rushdie….those who see the entire picture, step out of the frame. Something like that….in dt book. Forgot the title.
U sure stepped out of the frame in this work.
Anyways, this does sound like something someone in court will say to win a case. I was following the cadence, matching it with ur voice pitch and all….It really helped.
I like the detachment with which u try to put it forward. Ordinarily, I might not have read this (in fact, I have not until now) or finish it if I didn’t have the help of the imagination of that voice pitch.
You talk true, but you definitely don’t spend the whole day writing.
you dont. you actually need to do other things to be able to write. staring out of the window or simply relaxing or listening to music may even sharpen your writing faculties. but the problem is when you have to do, on a consistent basis, tasks that take up too much of your brain and drains you physically.
Deep stuff, man. But…
You wan start fight with teachers? Wetin you mean by he no take brains to teach? Lol.
A good writer is usually a dabbler in LIFE, first hand or vicariously, preferably first hand. My opinion.
a good writer has to be a dabbler in life. in general life. but not in literature.
You write superbly well.
And I totally agree with you on the total focus on that particular one thing that a person must do.
But life happens. Most distractions are of the necessary kind.
It cannot be helped.
Most just try to do the best they can.
i agree perfectly with that. most happen to be of the necessary kind
Many has done well in writing world wheather part-time or full-time
the bottom line is be passionate and focus on
whichever method prefered.
its individual chioce!
Choice silly me
it’s not about timing, a man could set off on a literary career in his fifties, or in his teens. You might have a job on the side, and you might not, what is essential is that at whatever period you choose to write, all of your energies are focused towards it.
True talk, but in this present world, one cannot survive on writing alone. Only a handful of people do that now.
Good stuff.
sadly, you’re right
@Drzhivago, deep stuff indeed.
I don’t entirely agree with your zero-sum game view about vital forces, i.e. if you spend half of your vital force on project A, then that’s half of your vital force that’s not available for project B.
For one thing, it’s possible that spending just half your vital force on project A is the right amount of vital force to spend. There’s such a thing as spending so much time/force on a project that it becomes counterproductive.
But right now, very few people (myself included) have enough spare time to write as much (or as well) as they would like to.
thats an excellent point boss. i agree with it