Why I write?
In my head, I always want to be a writer. Deep down I know that’s not fully true...
In my head, I always want to be a writer. Deep down I know that’s not fully true. Mostly, I am confused—why, what, how to write—but never just sit and write. In part, I’m convinced that getting paid for writing excites me. I have seen a few people who have made a career (a.k.a. getting paid) out of writing and my imagination takes off…
I see substack posts on how someone made $$$$ with their 100 paid subscribers and the fascination kicks in strongly. I also gather that successful writers are invited to give talks and tour the world (read - top 1%), making me compare the imaginatively glamorous writing career to my predictable hamster-wheel 9-5 job.
So, let me gather why I really want to write?
Money? - Mostly
Recognition? - A little won’t hurt
Actual joy of writing? - Never thought about it.
Else, I’d have written more than a couple of times in these last 6 years.
True, I have whipped up 4 satisfactory tennis articles in the past when inspiration struck, but nothing to show for the next 6 years. Yet my mind keeps prodding me to toy with the idea of writing. And I obey dutifully planning it all. But pen meeting the paper? A rarity.
Though 4 is a meagre count, I experienced a certain satisfaction in creating them. The question is, am I chasing that satisfaction? Yes, because I delude myself with satisfaction on the surface, and no because my efforts to write look the opposite way.
Delusional because content creation is a lot easier thanks to Gen AI. It helps me create content but I’m not satisfied. This idea of writing human and not AI content rages in me.
I principally agree with human content, but I have personally used Claude, ChatGPT for generating all my posts for LinkedIn. So another irony to deter me from writing. The reality is saddening - less of my thinking; more of AI prompting; and, a falsified love for writing.
These days I feel compelled to feed all that I write into AI. Without realizing, I silently crave its approval. But why should I feed all my thoughts to AI? Why should AI make my content better? Is this not my raw authentic thought? Is this not my story?
I hope I do not feed this piece also to AI - though I might tell you later that I did it only to organize my thoughts better and polish the edges for ‘easy readability’. If my thoughts are convoluted, so be it. I am writing for myself, putting my thoughts down for clarity. Not easy readability.
I think AI is the Instamart/BlinkIt of media. Instant gratification in under 10 mins. It saves time, yes, but is that the only metric? Whatever happened to nurturing thoughts, wrestling with ideas, making side-notes—all in the process to absorb knowledge and learn, and not just create outputs in under 60 seconds?
Does such writing give me satisfaction? No, but I use it anyway. And I intend to change it. Human content wins, as Hennekke Duisermaat says.
I think the biggest challenge I face is sitting to write. If I sit then something or the other will float into my head and I can type it out. But this whole process of convincing myself to sit to write, procrastinating, then worrying about not writing—this is a tiresome business. My output is zilch for all that effort.
So what should I do?
I still believe I should write. Why? Because I can compare this to how I learnt table tennis.
I started to play TT because the community hall in my apartment has a table, and there were friends who thought playing TT (along with swimming and cricket) was a good recreation.
Initially, the frustration of not being able to hold a rally for a minute provoked me to try another game. But because of the convenience and the company, I continued to tolerate the inability to play well. Slowly I learnt to play. Two years down the line it became so hard wired that sometimes, I directly went to play instead of going home from the office. Once, I even played with two hands like tennis because my right hand was badly wounded (and bandaged) and could not support the swings!
Motivated, I joined a TT club to play better. With my self-taught game and style, I reached the quarter finals in a professional and highly competitive tournament, and won a interclub event too.
The idea I’m trying to clarify here is: I did not start playing TT for the ‘love’ of it. I just played without thinking much. But eventually through all these 14 years of playing, I have given it my all and tried to get better at it. I only play to win.
In retrospect, I see that this regular commitment built my ‘love’ and ’passion’ for the game. Better results boosted my confidence and made me want it more. Today, I enjoy playing TT a lot!
So why should writing be any different?
I have dumped my thoughts here. The most predictable next step is to feed this to AI and publish it. I know, I know.
So at this point I am taking a break. I will close my laptop and head out for a walk. If I’m still here, you know what I will do.
See you later.
I’ve come home after 3 hours of hiatus from this piece and here’s my continued thought - I will write. I will write for the sake of it, without thinking much. The underlying purpose is immaterial for now. Because like TT I might develop a love for it if I’m in the game long enough.
Only practice will tell.