Rediscovering the fun of writing

Literature matters. Historically, it’s how we hold a mirror to ourselves, our stories rife with symbolism and meaning. Moby Dick isn’t about whaling. Camus’s The Plague is not about a plague outbreak. Among other themes, one is about obsession, the other in part about the perils of relying solely on bureaucracy and government over expertise and our own experiences.

One of the many things I learned about people in my years serving and tending bar is that the phrase “the janitor has the messiest house” is true. Few chefs wants to go home and cook dinner; no server wants to go home and hear “while you’re up, do you mind grabbing…” and writing after drafting social media copy for 8 hours is, similarly, more of a chore. In short, when you do something all day for others, you don’t generally want to do it for yourself afterward.

This is doubly the case if you’re writing something “important,” as opposed to a fan fic shipping two scandalous characters, or a story about your dog’s day for your kid.

The pressure associated with needing to write something “important” can be stifling. And you’re operating from a flawed premise, because:

1. Serious/important fiction is also entertaining (think: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep / Blade Runner).
2. Fun can say a lot. We can laugh and learn about the human condition at the same time.

Idiocracy was definitely holding a mirror. The future depicted in Idiocracy is the result of generations of intelligence being mocked and avoided as uncool. Few would call it a high-brow film.

Star Trek (the original series) is camp. Delightful camp. And it was saying things that were socially evolved for its time (even while retaining some of the flawed assumptions of its era—like that the captain would have a servant, that servant was definitely not a man, women in Starfleet were expected to retire from duty if they married… it was still of its time).

However…

The women in Starfleet were just as capable. It was a diverse crew, where white crew members seem to make up somewhere around 50–60% of the crew (no, I didn’t count)—which was probably noteworthy in 1966 when, according to the 1965 U.S. census (which only tracked “white,” “non-white” and “other”), “non-white” citizens made up a mere 10.6% of the population in 1960. That first on-screen, interracial kiss was fought for by the cast by ruining other takes. Between tranyas, It’s a show about our best selves and what we’re capable of if we abandon an ethos rooted in conquering, fear, violence and need for supremacy.

Lord of the Rings is fun. It’s also about the perils of isolationist policies. The plotlines of getting the unaffected hobbits to care about what’s happening in the wider world before it’s too late and when Merry and Pippin try to convince Treebeard that he’s part of this world and the doom will reach even the ents are stark examples.

You get the idea.

If you typically write pinkies-up, capital-L Literature and are in a rut, if you find your writing routine is a chore or that it’s fallen by the wayside entirely, I am begging you to allow yourself to be silly.

Put the pinky down.

What Entertains You?

What do you watch, read or play? I posit that if you’re playing Stardew Valley, reading ACOTAR, watching true crime documentaries and listening to King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard, that you might enjoy writing the things you enjoy.

Not that writing about a farmer who secretly fights crime and goes up against the sheriff who’s actually a serial killer and archfey, and the farmer discovers their hidden, innate magic is your new thing now—unless you want it to be. It can be the thing that gives you space from your magnum opus. The thing that reminds you how fun stories can be.

Then again, “fun” and “saying something” aren’t mutually exclusive. Maybe it’s all of that and about corruption.

“Simply” entertaining is just as much of a gift to your fellow human as high art. And still requires quite a bit of skill.

If you’re out of practice writing silly things and you don’t know where to begin, where to draw inspiration: my next piece (in the rough-draft stage) is on finding inspiration.

In the meantime: go read something fun.