Why Write? How Perspective Changes Over Time.

On September 2, 2018, I published a blog post called Why Write?

It was based on a writing prompt from one of my memoir writing groups. In the post, I likened writing to photography, my two loves. An easy parallel for me to make.

I wrote:

Writing is like a painting, drawing, or a photograph. Photography specifically has been one of my life's greatest passions. I think I'm fairly decent behind a camera, not just photographing children and families, but capturing moments, and being fully aware of lighting and my surroundings. I learned in photography to "turn around." As we move forward in life we see what is in front of us, and in some cases we certainly do end up with a striking photograph of the moment right before our eyes, but suppose you turned around and caught the light in a different angle, a different scene altogether, something you wouldn't have seen otherwise, something no one else can see because they are all still looking forward.

Memoir is all about turning around.

Turning around is about catching new perspectives.

The best writers can capture a thousand different perspectives within a single story. Memoir is not, and should never be, a single-perspective journey.

When I wrote that post, my first memoir was going through edits. It wasn't published yet, and it was surrounded on my blog by other posts about writing and how I chose to self-publish and... blah blah blah.

I don't know why, but yesterday I opened my old website and started looking through those blogs.

I wanted to see what was there. Who I was. Maybe even how cringey some of my past writing was.

I wrote 70 posts between 2018 and 2021. Through edits, publishing, writing my second book, and a pandemic.

That version of my life is frozen in time on an old website I don't use anymore, in words I haven't thought about for a very long time.

Eight years later, I've changed.

Eight years later, I'm debating a third memoir.

It's a debate because my thoughts, opinions, and perspective on writing memoir have shifted quite a bit in the last few years.

This is growth, I suppose.

The debate isn't really, Will I write another memoir?

It's more like, How will I write my next memoir?

And apparently I'll spend just as many years thinking about it as I did the first time.

Yesterday, I thought maybe that story is captured somewhere in those 70 blog posts.

And I still think part of it is.

I'm so happy that I write. And I'm so happy that I still have access to almost all of my writing, minus what I created as a child.

I don't, unfortunately, still have the little books I put together with construction paper, yarn, and glitter, but they're tucked away in my memories.

One in particular stands out.

Maybe one day I'll bring it to life again.

I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm meant to write and create books, and I don't want to be shy about that anymore.

I also need to quickly say how much I appreciate every single one of my friends who has encouraged this side of me.

Thank you.

Seriously, from the depths of my heart and soul, you make me feel capable. Your encouragement makes me feel brave enough to try again.

Because I'll admit that I'm frustrated right now.

With myself. With some people in our lives. With circumstances I can't change.

Recent events have caused me to take a serious pause and reflect again on the question Why write?, although I didn't realize that was the question I was asking.

And maybe perspective has something to do with why I'm struggling so much.

I've learned how to see other people's perspectives.

Writing taught me how to do that.

Memoir practically demanded it of me.

Turn around.

Look again.

What happened from over there?

What did that person see that I didn't?

What might I have misunderstood?

What changes when the light hits it from another direction?

But lately I've found myself wondering what happens when you're constantly trying to understand everyone else's perspective and no one seems particularly interested in understanding yours.

I'm mad about this.

Honestly, I'm mad about it a lot.

And I don't want to write an entire blog post about being mad.

So...

Rather than that...

Because I've learned how to...

Maybe I don't need to keep turning around.

Maybe I've already looked.

Maybe I've considered the other angles enough.

I think answering Why write? now is still about coping, processing, and understanding. It's about sharing. It's about that campfire moment, that feeling of sitting together and saying, This happened to me. Has anything like this ever happened to you?

It's about letting things go.

Now that I'm in a position to let things go, I can finally write.

Ahh.

There it is.

One of those fun realizations I have while writing.

Actually, that's part of the reason I write. To have those "ah-ha!" moments.

You just witnessed one.

I'm going to bold it.

That feels very quotable.

Eight years ago, I wrote that photography taught me to turn around.

I still believe that.

Turn around. Look at the light from another direction. Notice what's behind you. Consider the angle everyone else missed.

Writing taught me to do the same thing.

But I think there's another part of that lesson that I couldn't have understood eight years ago.

At some point, you have to stop turning around.

You have to put the camera back up to your eye and decide what you see.

You can understand someone else's perspective without surrendering your own.

You can acknowledge that someone standing five feet away might see the light differently without deciding that your photograph isn't real.

Maybe that's where I am now.

I've turned around.

I've looked.

I've considered the other angles.

I've tried to understand.

And now that I'm in a position to let things go, I can finally write.

So maybe the question isn't Why write? anymore.

Maybe it's simply:

What am I going to write next?