"Those who can, write... those who can't, blog".
That was essentially the dour note served by my lovely companion (and writer friend) over dinner yesterday.
Okay. Maybe I read between the lines a little.
It was more like, "Well, I suppose if you don't intend on finishing that book you can always blog".
Or something to that effect.
I don't remember exactly as the truth behind his words obliterated the superficial content of his throw-away comment. But I read it right. I must have. It cut like a knife.
In a split second, I read the intent behind the words.
The real meaning.
The hidden message.
Wrapped in certain tone, a tilt of the head, the raising of an eyebrow. A subtle challenge. A taunting, duel-like proposal from a like-minded individual.
Writers.
An ultra-sensitive lot of life-observing sleuths with sharp tongues. We have no problem letting other people know exactly what we think - especially other writers.
I was bang on.
It's the same as a kid in my class using the word 'fudge' today.
In grade 3 somebody is bound to rat you out.
The loyalty of an 8 year old lies strictly in avoiding the principal's office and that usually means shifting the focus elsewhere.
As a result of covering their own butts, I've got a class policing its own behavior.
It's awesome. Nobody gets away with squat.
Anyway... in his defense, the kid says to me:
"What's wrong with fudge"?
"It's not the word" I told him, "It's the intent. You intended to use a bad word but knew you'd never get away with it so you replaced it with another word, but really? WE ALL KNOW what you REALLY wanted to say."
"Yeah" said the mini moral police, "you REALLY wanted to use that OTHER bad word".
The kid didn't have too much to say after that because it was true. But based on his look of shock and confusion for getting into trouble for (technically) NOT SWEARING, I let him off with a warning...
"Remember" I said, "I'll bust your intent every time. So search your mind for the truth and honor behind your words and actions as these are the only things that will keep you safe from my wrath should you falter again Grasshoppa...".
Okay. Maybe I didn't say that either but I wanted to. It came out more like:
"Go home kid. And if you say it again, you're dead meat".
Dead meat. The kid chuckled then nodded. INTENT. They all know I don't mean it so they're never scared. As a matter of fact, they probably spend too much time laughing at me and don't heed my warnings nearly enough.
It's not what you say. It's NEVER what you say. It's the power and energy behind your words that determine how you come off. At least in person.
But not in your writing.
It's trickier there. People can't see your face when you tell the story so they have to trust that you're telling it well enough that they are interpreting the tone the way you intended it.
And then there's the trickiest intent of all - The INTENT TO DO SOMETHING.
An intent to DO something is worth NOTHING unless it's followed through.
The rule that applies to spoken INTENTS possess an additional component because those words require an accompanying action to justify their own validity.
Take for instance the following statement:
"I intend to write my book".
The truth is lots of people do. I'm one of them.
But until I finish this one, the only thing I have to go on is the fact that I managed to write one before. But that's no guarantee that I'll do it again.
And right now frankly, I'd be happy with a bloody outline.
But I think I'm okay with that. For what it's worth, my intention is pure. I know when I say, 'write' I don't mean 'ponder', or 'pretend to write a book' or 'talk about writing a book' or even 'fudge a book'.
I mean, WRITE.
But only time will tell...
