Okay, so let’s be clear about this: reading is not necessary. It does not satisfy any need, it’s not as if there’s this primordial aspect of humanity that it defines and explores. It does make you smarter, more culture, more empathetic, but all of these are optional. You can be dumb and live and long and happy life.
That being said, in a world where people read, on average, a book per year, here are some incredibly dumb reasons to read…
“if it doesn’t come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don’t do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don’t do it.”
― Charles Bukowski
Passion. Defined as a strong and barely controllable emotion. Fire. Defined as a destructive burning of something. Sounds pretty bad now, doesn’t it? But, if you think about it for a while, creation is a destructive process. Or is it the other way around?
But I do wonder, did you find your passion? Are you sure? Is it the thing that controls you? Make you want to jump out of the bed in the morning? The thing you can’t live without?
The artist. A solitary genius. A creator of beauty so sacred that we can’t help but love and fear at the same time.
“He’s a true artist,” we find ourselves saying, and it’s these words put together that conjure up the vision of someone whose inexorable destiny was to create, even at the expense of having to endure a lifetime of humility and frustration and social alienation.
The true artist is often misunderstood. He’s utterly and inconsolably alone with his art. And it is that art, that we all revere, that we’d think of as a bridge, that art is actually a wall. The artist hides behind this wall, refusing to face reality.
But times are changing. The artist has little choice in the matter: he either dies an artist or lives long enough to see himself become a creative entrepreneur.
I’d say that I’ve come a long way from my high school years, when I was struggling to find people who’d be interested in reading my stories. I’m not going to lie: it’s important to know that someone reads your stuff, that someone cares. Makes you feel less alone, and isn’t that one of the reasons we write?
And I appreciate that, and I’m truly grateful for being able to present my ideas or ask questions, to expect a response every single time I need one. But the truth is, we never write for a bunch of people. Yes, we talk a lot about finding our target audience, about all the ways we can improve how we reach our target audience, but that soon becomes a vague term, one that is used to define different people, who only share a number of preferences.
From Game of Thrones to the trend of vampire novels, post-apocaliptic stories, hard sci-fi, cyberpunk, steampunk and all other genres, we’ve fast become addicted to science fiction, fantasy, and horror.
Why such a departure from what “normal” looks like?
Maybe because normal kinda sucks?
Maybe because almost every specie on this planet dreams for the purpose of avoiding reality? Of filtering the stress dealt to its central nervous system during the day?
Art isn’t something to be discussed in a few lines, so I feel like I didn’t make it any justice. The reason I believe so, is because the other day I only managed to establish one of the rules, today I feel like covering another aspect.
We are surrounded by many forms of art ; movies, music, poetry, novels, paintings, whatever floats your boat. Everyone is free to embrace it as they wish but things aren’t going exactly like they used to and I am aware that sounds like a cliche. Unfortunately, it’s true.
“Why is it that the words we write for ourselves are always better than the words we write for others?” – Finding Forrester
The truth is that writers write for a million different reasons. Maybe they even write for no reason at all. But I believe that it happens to every writer to write at least a short story, a poem, a play, something with no expectations at all. Just because. Just for the fun of it.
“Having your book turned into a movie is like seeing your oxen turned into bouillon cubes.” – John Le Carré
A lot of writers sell the rights to their books to producers who seem to have nothing but the best intentions for their works. Unfortunately, most often than not, the end result is nothing but disappointing.
Indeed, on rare occasions, the opposite is true: the adaptation improves greatly the source material. Here are 10 movies that are better than the book they were based upon.