Writing as an Art Form

When most of us think about art, our minds initially conjure up images typically associated with the fine arts--things like painting, sculpting, and photography. If we stretch our minds a little further, we might even bring in elements of the performing arts--dancing, theater, even music. Unfortunately, far too few of us remember to include the literary arts--poetry, short stories, and novels.

Anyone who’s been serious enough to try their hand at creative writing knows how frustrating it can be at times. Carving out time to write while you juggle other competing priorities can be difficult and requires sacrifice. And when you finally do get to sit down, you realize that locking yourself away in front of a computer can feel awfully lonely. Then there’s the problem of coming up with fresh new ideas that don’t sound contrived or cliche.

With all the pressure that writers place on themselves, it’s easy to forget that writing is supposed to be an artistic expression and that writers, just like any other artist, must practice their craft constantly if they expect to one day become masters in their field.

The definition of art is a very broad one. Merriam-Webster defines art as “the conscious use of skill and creative imagination, especially in the production of aesthetic objects.” Given that definition, it’s easy to see that writers do in fact create art by using creativity, skill, and imagination. But even more than that, it’s important for writers to see themselves as true artists. Doing so will help them avoid, or at least more constructively deal with, so many of the frustrations that easily beset them.

Consider for a moment two piano players. The first is a concert pianist with more than twenty years of performance experience. The second, a young woman in her early teens who only recently started taking lessons. If you were to sit blindfolded in your seat and listen to each of these individuals play his or her favorite piece, I’d bet money you could probably tell in less than ten seconds which player was the pro and which was the novice.

And how would you be able to tell so quickly? Perhaps you’re a highly trained music critic. Or maybe you’re an accomplished pianist yourself. Possibly, but I doubt it.

I’d venture to say that just about anyone could tell the difference based simply on the auditory clues you picked up, probably without even realizing it. Subtleties such as the selection’s richness and depth, the emotions and thoughts you experienced as you listened to it, the confidence with which each piece was played, the number of errors you detected...these all helped you decide.

What is it exactly that separates the professional from the amateur? Does the pro possess more natural talent? More skill? More aptitude? In our example, how do you think the amateur felt about her own skills and abilities after hearing the pro play? Was she frustrated? Did she feel like a failure because she couldn’t play at an equally high level? Did it make her want to give up and quit because she wasn’t as good as the pro right now?

The answer to these questions, of course, should be a resounding ‘no’. The pro has more than twenty years of experience behind him, giving him a tremendous advantage over the novice right now. But if the novice dedicates herself to her playing, demonstrates a real passion for what she does, and practices hard every day, then who is to say that she won’t some day be just as good as--perhaps even greater than--the pro?

As for ‘natural’ talent, skill, and ability, I don’t personally believe they really exist. People excel at doing great things because they have a passion for doing them and they work very hard at getting better every single day. They don’t do it because they have to--they do it because they want to.

Talent, you see, is merely a byproduct of passion and hard work. It’s not something you’re born with, as many people tend to believe. Stephen King once said, “Talent is cheaper than table salt. What separates the talented individual from the successful one is a lot of hard work.”

If you have a real passion for writing, no amount of failure or frustration can ever make you quit. In fact, quite the opposite is true--if you truly have a passion for something, frustration and failure only encourage you to try harder the next time so you can get better. The only thing that can ever make you quit after enduring so much hard work and embarrassment and failure is if you decide that it simply isn’t worth your time any more.

So find the passion in your writing and work hard every day, not because you have to write, but because you love to write. You are a true artist, as great as any Renoir, or Mozart, or Baryshnikov. Take up your instrument and create something beautiful for our world.