If a story or novel is an extension of the author’s psyche and personal philosophy, then isn’t it a pre-requisite that the author know his own voice?
As a writer I do my best work when I pour out the depths of my soul onto the page. Every word must come from a burning desire to impress a message onto the story. My own dark places, doubts and fears as well as what the world lacks (in my view) or where I disagree with the world, all shows up somehow in story form. Most of all, my creative juices keep flowing from a well deeper than the intellect, fueled by what seems like an infinite source of energy.
I was inspired to write this short essay after reading an article in Smithsonian Magazine about Jack Kerouac. Jack Kerouac’s own search for meaning brought about his work that in turn initiated a cultural revolution that would change our social fabric forever. Kerouac was only interested in pouring out his frustration with the status quo and with the “establishment”, yet every word he wrote resonated with much of the younger generation. A writer, it seems to me, does not intentionally set out to change the world as a personal goal of sorts but rather to let his soul bring to the stage his own message that is not necessarily a solution but a wakeup call to his and future generations.
Kerouac’s following eventually became the Beatnik generation that was an utter failure within our social context. Does this mean that Kerouac was wrong? Does it mean he wasted his life? I would answer no to both of these questions. Kerouac had a call to write what he wrote and his intent was not to create the Beatnik generation but to convey the message that we need as individuals to find our own path and answer our own questions regardless of what society or the pop culture of the day tells us. Thinking for ourselves and bringing our own uniqueness to the world are what makes us powerful humans. Otherwise we are just running with the pack, living a predictable and limited life defined for us by what society determines as reality.
I believe that as writers we need to write as Kerouac did. Not necessarily with his convictions and philosophy but rather learning to tap into our own unique message free of the restrictions that social norms and institutions place on us. After all, writing is creating, and we can only create what cannot be seen or sensed by others. As writers, we bring a whole new world into being for all to see. Whether they accept or reject it is not our concern. Our concern is making our voice heard and letting the rest take care of itself. Our concern is staying in integrity with our own message and fundamental being and to hold steady despite the rejection and criticism. It is so much easier for a writer or any artist for that matter to eventually sell out and engage in the superficiality of the art to please and tell people what they want to hear. Staying within the confines of what is comfortable for all is easier to do and probably more lucrative for the artist. Then, an artist becomes a fuel for the collective slumber repeatedly injecting into the culture the same ideas in different forms.
The road less traveled, as Robert Frost reminds us, is the lonely one with no tracks or path to follow. The road less traveled, I think, is where every writer and artist needs to be. Bringing fresh perspectives and a clear voice of their own unique spirit to a world that is content to dwell in commonality, routine, and acceptance of the latest version of reality imposed on it.
No blind follower ever brought positive change to the world, neither were they remembered past the last handful of dirt on their grave. Although I believe that every human being has a unique talent and voice to share, writers are in the forefront as they bring new thought to their audiences and their responsibility is to make their own unique voice heard. They need to make it heard with the uninhibited passion of an artist and the relentless patience of a craftsman. They need to make it heard in any form that works for them. They need to make it heard until the fire in their belly is quenched and their soul is satisfied.
