As a writer, I'm a selfish bastard.

Because I find myself in every word.

Mar 16, 2023

“Hey, mom! Check this out! I wrote a poem about my favourite pony and how she has all these cool superpowers!”.

She jumped up and down, giddy with childish excitement and self-pride at having penned down an actual piece of written work.

Little Arya wrote because she wanted to show-off her craft, just like any kid does.

—

“Writing helps me articulate my jumbled mess of thoughts. You see, this right here?”, she said tapping her pen on her skull, “This is one freaky place, my friend”.

She nodded her head in a side-to-side motion with dramatic effect, to emphasise the nature of the so-called horrors that lay beneath, which could only be defeated by the greatest weapons of all: a pen and a paper.

Teenage Arya wrote because she sought acknowledgement and hoped to validate her confused feelings.

“I can’t be the only one, right?”, she often thought.

“Writing just happens to be something I genuinely enjoy and like. I don’t think so much about the ‘why’ part of it, ya know? And honestly, I like this simplicity in my love for the craft”.

Young Adult Arya writes because it’s an excuse to drink five jugs of coffee in a day.

Just kidding.

Young Adult Arya writes because she wants her written words to act as her voice.

—

My art. My thoughts. My feelings. My work. My voice. My words.

I, I, I… me, me, me… mine, mine, mine.

It all seems so selfish, so self-indulgent, so self-served.

Lately, this has got several questions plaguing my mind:

Is writing (especially fiction writing) selfish? Is it helping people in any way? Does it have to? If not, why would anybody bother reading all these words? But then, does that even matter?

Why does writing feel selfish?

1/ The self-constructed ego.

See, I write for myself. Alright?

I do it because I genuinely get a kick out of seeing my words fill up a blank page, and the obnoxious clacking of my fingers pushing buttons on the keyboard.

And many fiction writers (and maybe even personal blog/essay writers) would probably relate to this:

When you write for yourself, purely out of love and attachment for the craft — you do not write with a reader in mind.

The writing process itself gives birth to a kind of ego that on its own assumes there are people out there in the world who care about what you have to say, how you say it and regard your work as much as you do.

Here’s where it becomes a self-reflective process.

You’ll notice that you start to borrow and incorporate instances, narratives and observations from your life experiences and personal encounters.

You write about your pains, struggles, fears, addictions and obsessions.

You write about the world in your own terms and define it as you see it and what it can be.

You write about the opinions, biases, and political and social agendas that you’re passionate about — masquerading (sometimes) as universal truths.

For me, writing fiction is a way to lowkey be narcissistic without being deemed as such. So that, essentially, I can talk about myself without really coming off as a self-centred bitch.

2/ A creative tour of impossible possibilities.

Another thing most writers would relate with is:

Writing lets you escape.

It allows you to take your brain on a creative tour of impossible possibilities.

A way to get your mind off real life limitations, and explore things that lie beyond the ordinary — kinda like the grand wooden closet that opens up to the land of Narnia.

The worlds you create, the words you use, the phrases you invent.

One of my most favourite Japanese (fiction) authors, Banana Yoshimoto, once said:

“I tend to feel guilty because I write these stories almost for fun”. (Source: unknown).

3/ An exhibition.

As writers, we crave for feedback — the good, the bad and the ugly.

It’s good enough to know that someone took the time to attentively read our words.

So even after the writing process is done, we subject other people to our work — we ask for feedback from friends, from other writers, from publishers, from readers.

It’s kind of like putting up an exhibition.

We want to showcase the beauty of our art to the whole world, and hope they like it as much as we do.

The irony.

Look.

Beneath this exterior of an egotistical and narcissistic writer, dwells a human who wholeheartedly cares about whether she is providing value to her readers, who wonders whether she’s making some positive impact, any impact — no matter how small — in their lives.

“How ironic”, she immediately thinks, amused by her own thoughts, “That itself is the most selfish thing I’ve ever heard”.

But is this how it’s supposed to be?

Does artistic ambition itself require a capacity for selfishness?

I came across a LitHub essay by a writer named Rebecca Solnit, who had an interesting perspective to share:

“There is certainly more self involved in artmaking, or some kinds of it, in that it is often solitary, usually introspective, and sometimes personal, but that plunge into the depths may be as much about dismantling the blithe vanities of the unexamined life as celebrating yourself.
Even though you write out of a deep solitude, you generally write because you want to say something to other people, and you secretly hope it will benefit them in some way, by offering pleasure or new insight into the familiar or visions of the unfamiliar or just descriptions of the world and our psyches that make the world new and strange and worthwhile again…”

She goes on to say:

“You make art because you think what you make is good, and good means that it’s good for other people, not necessarily pleasant or easy, but leading toward more truth or justice or awareness or reform”.

This self-created ego, this narcissism — it’s crucial in the development of your work.

As a writer, you must convince yourself, even if it seems foolish — that the things you know are important enough to share.

While at the same time, you must introspect the depths of your own perspective to articulate it properly.

A writer named Grace Gilbert brings up a thought-provoking point of view:

“At the risk of sounding dramatic, the writer’s selfishness tends to be more about survival and less about fame and glory”.

—

In the end…

Whether you write for an audience.

Or for yourself.

Or for no one in particular.

Write.

Write for whatever reason it may be.

It doesn’t always have to serve a purpose.

But chances are it almost always will.

A laugh, a feeling of connection, a new worldview, a helpful tip.

So write, for whatever reason it may be.

It’s okay to be a selfish bastard. ;)