When I began this blog, I wanted to chase my dream of being a writer. What I now notice, looking over a few older posts, is that my idea of writing shed it’s fictional jacket. Sure, writing a short story or scene sounds fun, carefree, and imaginative; however, I discovered a secret in graduate study – expository writing is power. Things change with expository pieces whereas things in the fictional realm are not as effective at reaching reality.
Take Thomas Paine for example; his writings invoked liberty, freedom, and the rights of man. Or, Max Weber who analyzed the ability of charisma to be a means to control society. Think of Rene Descartes who decided to implement the scientific method, or Charles Darwin who was so leery of his own discovery he waited twenty years to publish. They were all writers. They looked at life, hungered for change, and used their pen to move mountains. These are my heroes.
That being said, I would like to clarify that there is a severe difference between Literature and fiction. Literature may be fictional but fiction does not literature make. To me, literature is a story with more than one meaning, a story that is able to alter one’s perspective, or a story that speaks to the subconscious while the conscious views the page. I have yet to write a piece of literature. I would like to, one day.
I am surprisingly not “sad” at the concept of deserting fiction. I am numb. It is like that part of my brain stopped sending messages. Methinks the expository messages are too loud for tiny fiction pleas. Sometimes “fun” needs to take a backseat. This is the time for expository words. This is how we change the things that are off in our society – with powerful contemplation, works of the Great Minds, and application to modernity.
My cocoon fell away, and the words on my wings will speak for the collective, striving for improvement.
Thanks to: http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/11/29/article-2515490-19B6F88800000578-675_964x567.jpg for the picture!