The Responsibilities of a Writer

When most people pick up a book, they do not realize what they hold in their hands. They see mere words, a plot, a few characters. If it is an old book, full of language or ideas that seem archaic to them, they toss the book aside in frustration or boredom. They don’t see the author staring up at them from the pages, begging to be heard. They don’t see the imprint of every scribe, editor, or publisher who ever touched the work. They don’t feel the community of readers throughout history, who read the exact same words. Perhaps, this is because many of today’s writers don’t see it either. They write merely to entertain and struggle to capture the attention of an increasingly distracted readership. They forget the beauty and power of their own language, and they forget their obligation to the intimate connection between author and reader.
I have heard many people today, including many critics, praise good writers for their talent. They seem to think that this mystical gift of talent, which one either is lucky enough to have or is unfortunate enough to lack, is where good writing comes from, and that a talented writer simply sits down with his muse beside him and brilliant stories flow from his pen. This is not the case. Talent is not the most important thing about being a good writer. A singer with a beautiful voice, but who never bothers to practice will not be a very good musician. Likewise, a talented writer who does not work at it will not be a very good writer. Let the image of the gifted, inspired writer sitting beneath the willow tree with a pen and paper (or at her computer with a one year old on her lap, as the case may be) die right here and now. With rare exceptions, good novels are not written in three months in between dance class and soccer practice. Writing is, and should be, hard work, even to those who love it.
I do not mean to say that there are no good writers working today, or that the good writer is the one who scorns the hollowness of modern society and goes off into the woods to be alone with his art. On the contrary, the angsty, reclusive writer, who suffers for his art, produces empty art. A writer must be part of life in order to write about it. They must interact with people in order to represent them in their writing. A writer is a philosopher, a psychologist, a historian, an adventurer and, above all, a human being. It is their responsibility to put a great deal of thought and consideration into their writing. Writing is not just a hobby or an occupation; it is a way of life. The good writer observes life around him, so that he may recreate and manipulate it later. He collects words and people in his mind. He eagerly learns new things, wondering how each scrap of information can be used in his work. He spends his life searching the faces and words of the people around him for a movement or a pattern of speech that will bring a dead character to life. A writer must do research and become fluent in any subject they choose to write about. He needs to be able to represent reality in their work, even if he chooses not to. Most good stories will depart from truth at some point or other. However, it must be done with intention so as not to distract the reader from their work with unintentional mistakes.
The writer cannot just self indulgently write whatever he wants, but rather must let the story run its natural course. A writer must cut out even his favorite part, if that part takes the story away from its natural path. Once the limits of a world or character have been defined, the writer cannot suddenly change or ignore them on a whim. The character’s actions must come from the characters themselves, not the author. This is why a writer must be a psychologist. He must be able to create and completely understand the minds and actions of the characters in his story. He must know how his characters will react to events in the story and why they will react that way.
Even when writing a fantastical story, the writer must have an understanding of the reality in that fantasy world. I write stories full of magic that are set in a completely constructed world. Even though the world is fictitious, it is still restrained by reality it many ways. Humans and human nature, for example, remain the same. I tried to imagine how humans, as a race and as individuals, would react to and develop in a world very different from our own. I have pages and pages of research into magical lore, psychology, myth, religion and history. I have written the histories, superstitions and religious myths of the people in this world. This is the only way to create a world that is real to my readers and myself.
I dabble in many genres, but my passion is fantasy-fiction. Until I was thirteen, I thought fantasy was childish. One of my closest friends, who would read nothing else, tried to convince me to read one of her favorite books. When I, very disdainfully, asked why I should read a book about a world that didn’t even exist, she looked me squarely in the eye and said, “Because the fantasy world makes more sense than the real one.” I had no argument to meet her earnesty, and I agreed to
give fantasy a try. The book she handed me was The Lord of the Rings. I finished it in just over four days, and couldn’t get enough.

I read all the appendixes, poured over the maps, and then read The Hobbit, and The Silmarillian. What impressed me the most was the amount of detail and forethought that had gone into this book. Tolkien opened my eyes to the power that a story can have. A well written and well thought out story is a powerful thing. No one can read The Lord of the Rings without being touched by Frodo’s sacrifice, Sam’s unwavering devotion, or Pippin’s and Merry’s childlike view of the world.

No matter who we are or where we are from, we all look at the contrast between Frodo and Gollum with a mixture of horror and pity. When, after all is said and done, the four hobbits return home only to find the sanctity of the shire shattered, the reader is just as horrified and outraged as the shirefolk themselves. It is difficult to remember that this place, which is so precious to us, does not exist, because Tolkien has created it so completely. He put so much thought and care into its creation that the reader can easily believe that the shire and all of middle earth were once a very real place. This is the power that writers have, and the gift that readers hold in their hands when they pick up a book. It can force people to feel truths that they would never otherwise be able to accept intellectually, and connect people who have nothing in common but their language.