I haven't given up on blogging—it's just been an unusually hectic semester. For the past two months I've been dedicating all my time to my undergraduate thesis (the main ideas of which I'll share at a later date). So I dropped off the blogosphere. But now that I have a month and a half of vacation, I have plenty of time to write down the various ideas that popped into my head over the course of this hiatus. I'm looking forward to getting back to writing again.
Showing posts with label Meta. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Meta. Show all posts
Monday, May 21, 2012
Monday, February 13, 2012
Absence
Sorry for the long absence, everyone. It's application season, and I've been busy with that. But I plan to get back to the blog now that I have more time. Plan to see a couple new posts in the coming weeks....I've had ideas brewing.
Monday, July 18, 2011
River Plate's Loss as a Metaphor for the History of Argentina
On June 26th, the unthinkable happened: the Argentine football club River Plate got demoted to the B league. It's an event that provoked this kind of reaction throughout the country and the football-playing world:
For those of you who don't follow Argentine football, let me explain. The two strongest teams in Argentina have always been River Plate and Boca Juniors, and they have a rivalry that's practically unmatched anywhere else in the world. Every person in Argentina is a fan of either one or the other. When the two teams play, it's the sporting event of the year.
River (as it's known colloquially) has been one of the most successful Argentine clubs of all times. But lately they've been struggling, and losing, and losing. By June 26th it got to the point where River had to win the match in order to stay in the top ('A') league of Argentine football. It should have been a no contest; they were playing some no-name team from the interior.....and still they lost.
A dedicated River fan became so irate while watching that fateful game that this video of his tirade has made him the most well-known man in Argentina:
[As you'll soon tell, there aren't many different kinds of curses in Argentine Spanish. This man uses about three or four principal insults, with variations and combinations:
"la puta que te pario" = the whore that gave you birth
"pendejo / boludo / pelotudo" = stupid / asshole
"andate a la concha de tu madre / hermana / etc." = your mother / sister's /etc.'s pussy
At one point he cries out, in supplication, "¡No les pido que hagan 28 pases como el Barcelona, hagan dos seguidos, nada más!" ("I'm not asking you to make 28 passes like Barcelona, just two in a row, nothing more!")]
On the media circuit on which this poor man was later dragged, he sheepishly explained that he did go a little too far. But really, given the situation, who can blame him? Imagine being a fan, a devotee of River, learning from a young age to adore the River jersey, to be proud of a team with an international reputation and a long, glorious history; and to have that team that you so adore now be known as just "some other" team, with bygone glory days?! It's hard to comprehend how one copes with such a trauma.
But these kinds of falls from glory aren't new to Argentina. Rolando Hanglin, writing for the daily La Nacion, puts this story in its larger context, tapping into the essence of the Argentine psyche:
For decades now, economists and sociologists from Latin America's dependencia school have been arguing that poorer countries have an inherent disadvantage when competing in the world economy. Something analogous seems to be true for football in the case of River: as D.S. over at The Economist notes,
Argentines respond to this frustration in different ways. There are some (especially the rich) who stopped caring, and have simply shifted allegiances to America or Europe. They openly put down their country and go on and on about how glorious it is abroad. Then there are those who care about their country, but resigned at its fate. Many still harbor resentment against the world superpowers, especially Britain and America, for having cheated them out of a better position in the world pecking order. Throughout Latin America, Argentines are derided for their arrogance, and they have it, it's true; but when we see that arrogance through the lens of their history, it's much easier to sympathize and understand how they're feeling.
Like Argentina, which has been struggling to find its identity for the past century, River too will have to reorient itself in the world of football. Most Argentines haven't handled their country's fall from grace well, and remain bitter at the world. Let's hope River fares better.
For those of you who don't follow Argentine football, let me explain. The two strongest teams in Argentina have always been River Plate and Boca Juniors, and they have a rivalry that's practically unmatched anywhere else in the world. Every person in Argentina is a fan of either one or the other. When the two teams play, it's the sporting event of the year.
River (as it's known colloquially) has been one of the most successful Argentine clubs of all times. But lately they've been struggling, and losing, and losing. By June 26th it got to the point where River had to win the match in order to stay in the top ('A') league of Argentine football. It should have been a no contest; they were playing some no-name team from the interior.....and still they lost.
A dedicated River fan became so irate while watching that fateful game that this video of his tirade has made him the most well-known man in Argentina:
[As you'll soon tell, there aren't many different kinds of curses in Argentine Spanish. This man uses about three or four principal insults, with variations and combinations:
"la puta que te pario" = the whore that gave you birth
"pendejo / boludo / pelotudo" = stupid / asshole
"andate a la concha de tu madre / hermana / etc." = your mother / sister's /etc.'s pussy
At one point he cries out, in supplication, "¡No les pido que hagan 28 pases como el Barcelona, hagan dos seguidos, nada más!" ("I'm not asking you to make 28 passes like Barcelona, just two in a row, nothing more!")]
On the media circuit on which this poor man was later dragged, he sheepishly explained that he did go a little too far. But really, given the situation, who can blame him? Imagine being a fan, a devotee of River, learning from a young age to adore the River jersey, to be proud of a team with an international reputation and a long, glorious history; and to have that team that you so adore now be known as just "some other" team, with bygone glory days?! It's hard to comprehend how one copes with such a trauma.
But these kinds of falls from glory aren't new to Argentina. Rolando Hanglin, writing for the daily La Nacion, puts this story in its larger context, tapping into the essence of the Argentine psyche:
River ya no es la élite del fútbol mundial. Es sólo un equipo que fue próspero y señorial (de ahí el apodo de "Millonarios") con una escuela refinada, que se ha perdido. Además, está rodeado del entorno que corresponde a un país del Tercer Mundo. Un país que fue rico hace ciento veinte años, y que ya no lo es.What Mr. Hanglin is referring to is how Argentina (believe it or not) was contending with the United States as a world power in the New World around the end of the 19th century. Why not? Argentina had a vast resource endowment, skilled European immigrants, industry and trade. All signals pointed to success. But now all the books written on the history of Argentina have the subtitle, "What went wrong?" (how Argentine ended up "failing" is a subject that has so interested researchers that it has its own name: the so-called "Argentine Riddle").
"River is no longer in the elite of world football. It's just another team that used to be successful and noble (from there came the nickname of "The Millionaires") with a refined school that has lost its way. In addition, it's surrouned by an environment that corresponds to a country in the Third World. A country that used to be rich one hundred twenty years ago, but no longer is."
For decades now, economists and sociologists from Latin America's dependencia school have been arguing that poorer countries have an inherent disadvantage when competing in the world economy. Something analogous seems to be true for football in the case of River: as D.S. over at The Economist notes,
The cruelest consequence of relegation, of course, is that the demotion itself makes it much harder for a club to work its way back up to the top:" River’s annual television revenues will fall from $6.8m to about $4m, and it will have to cut ticket prices. It will probably lose transfer income as well, since few European clubs search for talent in the second division.For Argentines with pride in their people and their country, all this must be terribly frustrating. How do you prove you don't suck? If you're a batter in a slump, every hit you make seems fleeting; every strikeout just confirms and reemphasizes your worst fears. Similarly, every time the newspapers in Argentina report rising inflation, or the lack of respect their dignataries receive abroad, the more and more Argentines confirm their fears that they're stuck in the "Third World" (a category that they care a lot about, critical theory be damned) forever.
Argentines respond to this frustration in different ways. There are some (especially the rich) who stopped caring, and have simply shifted allegiances to America or Europe. They openly put down their country and go on and on about how glorious it is abroad. Then there are those who care about their country, but resigned at its fate. Many still harbor resentment against the world superpowers, especially Britain and America, for having cheated them out of a better position in the world pecking order. Throughout Latin America, Argentines are derided for their arrogance, and they have it, it's true; but when we see that arrogance through the lens of their history, it's much easier to sympathize and understand how they're feeling.
Like Argentina, which has been struggling to find its identity for the past century, River too will have to reorient itself in the world of football. Most Argentines haven't handled their country's fall from grace well, and remain bitter at the world. Let's hope River fares better.
Wednesday, May 4, 2011
I'm Kicking the Habit
I cherish good writing. It's absolutely one of my favorite things in the world. Every time I read good, clean, limpid, effortless, honest prose a smile comes to my face. I can't help it.
We naturally imitate what we love, which means for me, in this case, that I spend a lot of time and effort trying to make my prose like that. Almost nothing to me is more satisfying than a paper that turns out well; but by the same token, nothing is more frustrating than when it doesn't.
In hopes of achieving the caliber of writing that I so admire, I've turned to style guides. I've read Strunk and White, of course, as well as Joseph Williams's Style. Plus there's a lot of rules and tips and tricks that I don't even remember where I've picked up, perhaps from classes or from the internet.
The point of all this help, as these style guides say themselves, is to shrink the gap between what we mean to say and what we actually say. As writers, we want the reader to access our mind, and we want the flow of ideas to be seamless. We want to feel at one with the written word.
But that's not how I feel at all. Instead, I'm completely paralyzed.
Every time I think up a sentence, I first have to run it by my filter. My filter is composed of all the rules and checks for good writing (sometimes conflicting) that I've built up over the years. Does it use the active voice? Does it have dangling antecedents, or floating "this"'s? Is it as simple as possible, but no simpler? All of these are good checks to keep in mind. But the more I think of these rules, the harder it is for me to think freely and naturally and uninhibited.
So you know, today's the day I kick my style addiction. No more worrying about parts of speech or sentence structure or clarity or grace. My only rule: say what you mean, and mean what you say. I think (I really hope) the rest will work out.
We naturally imitate what we love, which means for me, in this case, that I spend a lot of time and effort trying to make my prose like that. Almost nothing to me is more satisfying than a paper that turns out well; but by the same token, nothing is more frustrating than when it doesn't.
In hopes of achieving the caliber of writing that I so admire, I've turned to style guides. I've read Strunk and White, of course, as well as Joseph Williams's Style. Plus there's a lot of rules and tips and tricks that I don't even remember where I've picked up, perhaps from classes or from the internet.
The point of all this help, as these style guides say themselves, is to shrink the gap between what we mean to say and what we actually say. As writers, we want the reader to access our mind, and we want the flow of ideas to be seamless. We want to feel at one with the written word.
But that's not how I feel at all. Instead, I'm completely paralyzed.
Every time I think up a sentence, I first have to run it by my filter. My filter is composed of all the rules and checks for good writing (sometimes conflicting) that I've built up over the years. Does it use the active voice? Does it have dangling antecedents, or floating "this"'s? Is it as simple as possible, but no simpler? All of these are good checks to keep in mind. But the more I think of these rules, the harder it is for me to think freely and naturally and uninhibited.
So you know, today's the day I kick my style addiction. No more worrying about parts of speech or sentence structure or clarity or grace. My only rule: say what you mean, and mean what you say. I think (I really hope) the rest will work out.
Sunday, April 3, 2011
I'm a Versatile Blogger!
Guess what? I'm an award winning blogger now!
My friend Mugdha from high school and fellow blogger over at A Vigilant Muse just nominated me for the The Versatile Blogger award, a kind of virtual pat on the back/thumbs up that new bloggers pass around, and which I heartily appreciate. Thank you Mugdha!
The Rules of The Versatile Blogger Award:
1. Thank the person who gave you back the award and link back to them in your post.
Check.
2. Tell seven things about yourself.
I'm not really interested in doing this. I imagine you can pick out seven things about me from reading my posts...surely that counts?
3. Award fifteen recently discovered new bloggers.
4. Contact these bloggers and let them know they've received this award.
My friend Mugdha from high school and fellow blogger over at A Vigilant Muse just nominated me for the The Versatile Blogger award, a kind of virtual pat on the back/thumbs up that new bloggers pass around, and which I heartily appreciate. Thank you Mugdha!
The Rules of The Versatile Blogger Award:
1. Thank the person who gave you back the award and link back to them in your post.
Check.
2. Tell seven things about yourself.
I'm not really interested in doing this. I imagine you can pick out seven things about me from reading my posts...surely that counts?
3. Award fifteen recently discovered new bloggers.
I won't be able to nominate 15, since I don't even know of 15 amateur blogs. But here are some good ones that I subscribe to that I encourage you to check out.
Speculum Linguarum et Literatum by Scott Kennedy
The self-published work of a budding classics scholar.
TypicalMath by Howard Cheng
For now it's a study abroad blog about his semester studying math in Hungary. Hopefully he'll keep it up even after he returns.
The Desert Lamp by Connor Mendenhall, Anna Swenson, Evan Lisull, Vishal Ganeshan, and others
I'd be remiss if I didn't mention this fierce watchdog of University of Arizona politics.
Fight Entropy by Solomon Hsiang and Jesse Anttila-Hughes
A cool compilation of economics and geography put together by a Ph.D. student in Sustainable Development at Columbia University and a post-doc at NBER. It may be out of my league to nominate them, but I'll do so anyway because I enjoy their work.
4. Contact these bloggers and let them know they've received this award.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
100 posts!
I've made it to 100 blog posts!
In light of the Academy Awards tonight, I'd like to take the time to thank all the people who made it possible for me to get here:
First, I'd like to thank all of my English teachers, especially through high school and college, who inculcated in me a love for good writing and writing well. My college ENGL 109H teacher, Jack Skeffington, was especially encouraging. Writing is a skill like anything else, he would say—you only get better with practice. I took that line seriously, and so this blog was born to practice my writing. [Plus, he introduced me to David Foster Wallace, and so of course I'm indebted to him for that.]
I also owe a lot to my friends, with whom I've had many conversations that have inspired blog posts. I always learn something new from all of you (and I realize how much I depend on you for ideas because when we're on school vacations I have a hard time coming up with blog posts).
To the readers and commentators on the blog, a big thank you! It really makes my day when I hear someone mention a blog post of mine they liked, or when I see a new comment on my Blogger dashboard.
And, of course, I'd be amiss if I didn't mention my family's support too. I'm not sure how aware they are of this blog, but it doesn't matter. They're responsible for supporting the person behind the blog.
In light of the Academy Awards tonight, I'd like to take the time to thank all the people who made it possible for me to get here:
First, I'd like to thank all of my English teachers, especially through high school and college, who inculcated in me a love for good writing and writing well. My college ENGL 109H teacher, Jack Skeffington, was especially encouraging. Writing is a skill like anything else, he would say—you only get better with practice. I took that line seriously, and so this blog was born to practice my writing. [Plus, he introduced me to David Foster Wallace, and so of course I'm indebted to him for that.]
I also owe a lot to my friends, with whom I've had many conversations that have inspired blog posts. I always learn something new from all of you (and I realize how much I depend on you for ideas because when we're on school vacations I have a hard time coming up with blog posts).
To the readers and commentators on the blog, a big thank you! It really makes my day when I hear someone mention a blog post of mine they liked, or when I see a new comment on my Blogger dashboard.
And, of course, I'd be amiss if I didn't mention my family's support too. I'm not sure how aware they are of this blog, but it doesn't matter. They're responsible for supporting the person behind the blog.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Updated Reading List - February 23rd
I've updated the reading list today with some articles on education, development economics, and charities—and a really nice novel about Indian Partition. Check it out!
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
The Reading List
In our continued effort to provide you with the foremost intellectual experience, we here at kmthinking.blogspot.com have come up with our latest feature on the blog: the Reading List.
Here we'll list our roundup of thought-provoking and/or generally worthwhile reading materials, accompanied by short reviews and synopses.
We hope you find something interesting here that you'd recommend to your friends. As always, we welcome feedback and suggestions.
Here we'll list our roundup of thought-provoking and/or generally worthwhile reading materials, accompanied by short reviews and synopses.
We hope you find something interesting here that you'd recommend to your friends. As always, we welcome feedback and suggestions.
Monday, September 27, 2010
One Year of Blogging
Looking back on old posts makes me feel like an archeologist of my own mind. I can see how each post crystallized my state of mind at the time, forming a sort of mental fossil record that makes it possible for me, now, to contemplate the evolution of my thinking from the outside. Like the archeologist, I feel at once a strong connection and objective distance to the past, which gives my study a tinge of both nostalgia and curiosity. The main difference, of course, is that one year doesn't make ancient history. As much as I try to approach my old posts with the objectivity of archeology, I know I'm still attached to my old writing.
One of the first things that strikes me when I read my early posts is how clearly anxious this project made me. Right after finishing my first post, I wrote a second one worrying about how I'd find my own voice. About a month later, I wrote another post entitled Washed up?, where I wondered aloud whether I wasn't creative enough to come up with new posts constantly. Although my first instinct was to dismiss these posts as comical and childish (which they are), I now believe it's more important to recognize how much writing involves putting yourself out there, and becoming comfortable with that. That I can look back on my earlier posts with a kind of grandfatherly humor is, to me, a sign of real progress.
I'm happy to find that, one year later, I have some answers to the questions I was asking in the beginning. As I mentioned, I used to wonder how I'd find my voice. Now I don't—not that I understand my own voice any better, but I've learned to stop worrying about my writing so much, and to keep my focus on expressing myself as clearly and consistently with my purpose as possible. I also used to wonder how I'd constantly come up with topics. It wasn't until this post in August that I realized that my inspiration for posts came more from my interactions with new ideas outside of me rather than from some place within me. That took a big psychological burden off of me.
I'm also happy to find how impressed I often become when I read my old posts. On the whole, they tend to be quite good, and surprisingly insightful. [Actually, what I mean is that they turned out better than I remember; when you're in the midst of a flurry of edits and re-edits, it's hard to see anything but errors. That's why exercises like these serve as a helpful way of getting out of that constant self-criticizing mode.]
For the next year, there are some aspects of my writing I'd like to improve. First, I want to modify the way I process my writing. Currently, I think more about style, the way the words sound on the page, rather than substance, what I actually want to communicate. Sometimes I compromise on my ideas for the sake of getting a pretty turn of phrase. I find that, too often, I use turns of phrases without actually thinking about what they mean. I think it's time to change these habits. Style is not an end in itself, but rather a tool to better communicate one's ideas. When I think about what to write, I want to think about style not as separate from substance, but as a part of it.
In addition to communicating accurately, I'd like to start communicating more artistically. Reading journal articles and political economy books all the times has made me forget that the occasional well-crafted metaphor, simile, or image makes reading much more enjoyable. I appreciate that kind of beauty when I see it in other's writing, so I'd like to incorporate it in mine too.
P.S. If I were to hold an Oscars of my writing then my nominations for the category of "Best Sentence(s)" would surely be:
- "The Harry Ransom Center at the University of Texas, Austin has compiled a complete list of the words DFW circled in his copy of the American Heritage Dictionary. Wallace scholars are of course using this list to glean some more insight into his mind and work, but I just enjoy birdwatching all these rare and exotic words that somehow show up in the English language." from What David Foster Wallace Circled in His Dictionary
- "The thing—the problem, you could say—with epiphanies is that no matter how small they are, they bring such a burst of clarity that it's easy to forget how private and personal the whole experience is. You walk outside after an epiphany and the blue sky suddenly feels more blue and humanity seems somehow more enlightened and less hopeless. It's hard not to think of the experience as anything other than a leap forward for mankind." from Maybe Not a Leap Forward for Mankind, but At Least a Quantum Leap for Me
- "And of course, the film is absolutely joyful to see, visually: a real treat for the eyes." from Avatar
Wednesday, August 25, 2010
I'm still here
I haven't forgotten about the blog. The reason why I haven't been publishing the last couple weeks is that I've been hard-pressed to find a complete, meaningful thought to write about.
Now that I'm back at school after this long break, I'm really appreciating how much it stimulates new thinking. Just in the past two days of classes I've already faced ideas that have forced me to reconsider my judgments, convictions, evaulations, and beliefs. As I continue to reflect, the precipitate should manifest itself in some new blog posts in the coming days.
Now that I'm back at school after this long break, I'm really appreciating how much it stimulates new thinking. Just in the past two days of classes I've already faced ideas that have forced me to reconsider my judgments, convictions, evaulations, and beliefs. As I continue to reflect, the precipitate should manifest itself in some new blog posts in the coming days.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Maybe Not a Leap Forward for Mankind, but At Least a Quantum Leap for Me
I don't know about you, but I don't find myself learning, as they say we should, one new thing everyday. I try to keep my mind open for learning at all times, but alas the actual act of learning seems to be more the providence of Fortune and the Gods than me—for as much as you may struggle to understand something, there's no guarantee that the concept will sink in, that it will penetrate the soft, fleshy cerebral membrane and become part of your bones (I have a deep conviction that all true knowledge resides in your bones; the rest is fluff to impress, or soups of facts that we regurgitate mindlessly).
That is to say, my knowledge doesn't seem to grow gradually and steadily, but rather in quantum leaps of tiny epiphanies. The thing—the problem, you could say—with epiphanies is that no matter how small they are, they bring such a burst of clarity that it's easy to forget how private and personal the whole experience is. You walk outside after an epiphany and the blue sky suddenly feels more blue and humanity seems somehow more enlightened and less hopeless. It's hard not to think of the experience as anything other than a leap forward for mankind.
Well, in true postmodern fashion, I think I've had an epiphany about epiphanies, and this one (unlike the others, which were more like lighting bolts of Zeus) can be pinpointed back to its source: writing this blog.
I'd always be on the lookout for topics for this blog (which, for some reason, always seemed to come to me in the shower), and the little epiphanies I had seemed like exciting and worthwhile stuff. But when it came to putting those thoughts to blog, I'd always have a problem of recreating that excitement and novelty of discovery. I'd work it around, try this or that, but it'd just end up sounding like common sense, nothing knew, stuff that everyone knew, constantly begging the question: what took you so long?
I don't think this necessarily reflects on my writing skills, but rather shows how the epiphanies that I thought were news for humanity were in reality just news for me (I hear a unison chant from the world of "what took you so long?"). But you know, that's fine. The thrill is still the same, and I still see the sky more blue.
P.S. The astute critic may have noted that this blog post itself seems to treat this epiphany about epiphanies as news to the world; which would make it seem as if I haven't learned my lesson after all. I assure this critic that my purpose is no longer didactic but confessional and self-disciplining, and if it benefits anyone else, all the better. (But to be truly honest, that didactic bug is hard to shake off.)
That is to say, my knowledge doesn't seem to grow gradually and steadily, but rather in quantum leaps of tiny epiphanies. The thing—the problem, you could say—with epiphanies is that no matter how small they are, they bring such a burst of clarity that it's easy to forget how private and personal the whole experience is. You walk outside after an epiphany and the blue sky suddenly feels more blue and humanity seems somehow more enlightened and less hopeless. It's hard not to think of the experience as anything other than a leap forward for mankind.
Well, in true postmodern fashion, I think I've had an epiphany about epiphanies, and this one (unlike the others, which were more like lighting bolts of Zeus) can be pinpointed back to its source: writing this blog.
I'd always be on the lookout for topics for this blog (which, for some reason, always seemed to come to me in the shower), and the little epiphanies I had seemed like exciting and worthwhile stuff. But when it came to putting those thoughts to blog, I'd always have a problem of recreating that excitement and novelty of discovery. I'd work it around, try this or that, but it'd just end up sounding like common sense, nothing knew, stuff that everyone knew, constantly begging the question: what took you so long?
I don't think this necessarily reflects on my writing skills, but rather shows how the epiphanies that I thought were news for humanity were in reality just news for me (I hear a unison chant from the world of "what took you so long?"). But you know, that's fine. The thrill is still the same, and I still see the sky more blue.
P.S. The astute critic may have noted that this blog post itself seems to treat this epiphany about epiphanies as news to the world; which would make it seem as if I haven't learned my lesson after all. I assure this critic that my purpose is no longer didactic but confessional and self-disciplining, and if it benefits anyone else, all the better. (But to be truly honest, that didactic bug is hard to shake off.)
Saturday, September 5, 2009
Washed Up?
I knew from the beginning that writing a blog would require discipline. What I didn't foresee, though, was the creativity I would need to have to come up with something worthwhile to write about every single day.
I think my experience is similar to most beginning blog writers: At first it's easy to come up with posts because you have a bunch of old ideas swimming in your head that you've been waiting to let free. They come out all in a splash. But then when you realize you have nothing left to say, you end up all washed up.
That's about where I'm at right now: NOT that I couldn't make a post if I wanted to, but that I think my posts are getting to the point of talking for the sake of talking...at least I think.
These next few weeks, then, will be a sort of test to see whether or not I have the necessary creativity to come up with interesting topics everyday. Let's see (myself included) if I really am up to the task.
I think my experience is similar to most beginning blog writers: At first it's easy to come up with posts because you have a bunch of old ideas swimming in your head that you've been waiting to let free. They come out all in a splash. But then when you realize you have nothing left to say, you end up all washed up.
That's about where I'm at right now: NOT that I couldn't make a post if I wanted to, but that I think my posts are getting to the point of talking for the sake of talking...at least I think.
These next few weeks, then, will be a sort of test to see whether or not I have the necessary creativity to come up with interesting topics everyday. Let's see (myself included) if I really am up to the task.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
*Throat Clearing Sound*
That last post took a lot longer than I expected, and it's not because I wasn't sure what I wanted to talk about.
I've barely started to write this blog, but I'm starting to truly understand what it means to have one's own "voice" in writing. Subconsciously, it seems that what I'm really trying to do is imitate and synthesize the voice of writers I like, such as David Sedaris or David Foster Wallace. No wonder it's taking me so long to write my posts.
Ultimately, then, I'll have to find my own voice. I don't know how that's going to happen, or how I'll even be able to tell (do fish know they swim in water?), but my hope is that things will become clearer as I keep this up.
Introduction
I've never really thought of myself as a blogger, but here I am. The idea is that I'll get in some good writing practice this way.
Like most unexpected turn of events, this one happened rather suddenly. At least, the idea came to me only recently, but now that I think about it I guess I've been heading this direction for a while. I've always admired and envied good writing--you know, the kind that feels confessional instead of premeditated--and normally I leave it at that. But now I've decided that instead of idly admiring and envying, I'll take steps to develop the craft--and, as they say, practice makes perfect.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)