On Writing
It seems to me there aren’t enough people writing. I suppose you could say that there most certainly are. After all, most of the news we consume is written in some way or another, there are a great number of books published every year, and there are university and college students aplenty writing for their lives. Yet every one of these styles is, in some way or another, a form of employment. It is not a lack of writing for work that I’ve been lamenting, but a lack of writing for pleasure. I’ve been told that journalling is important. To write down your thoughts in some small entry is good for the soul; it helps one to understand themselves and their daily lives. I’ve no doubt that that is true, but I suppose I hope for something more. Wouldn’t it be nice to write purely for the pleasure of writing?
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I’ve written my introduction and I’m fairly sure that in any persuasive piece I am meant to provide some sort of indication as to what I’ll be arguing, and how I arrive at my conclusions. But I’m not writing a persuasive piece. I’m simply writing. And if I want this to be the end of my piece, it will be.
