In
Jenny Joseph’s poem, “When I am Old” she proclaims:
When I am an old woman I shall
wear purple
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me, …
With a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me, …
She
continues documenting the nonstandard things she will do in her old age and
ends with the thought that perhaps if she starts a bit now, people won’t be so shocked
when she grows old and wears purple.
In my
career as a consultant, I worked with business types who were almost uniformly
conservative in their dress and politics. I soon mirrored the dress code with
my blue pin-striped suits and tasteful ties. (I did wear a short-haired wig for
a bit to cover my long hair, but that was only until I capitulated.)
It was akin
to my being a light-skinned mulatto in the early 20th century who successfully “passed.”
I swallowed my tongue when it came to politics and the denigration of all to
the left of Attila the Hun. Others must have presumed that I agreed with them
since I didn’t object to their worldview.
When I retired
and started writing fiction, I maintained my consulting perspective of not
ruffling feathers. Oh sure, I had personally given up reading and therefore
supporting authors like Vince Flynn with what I perceive to be his “us (the
U.S.) against them” view of the world; but I thought it would be inappropriate
of me to interject my views into my fiction—or take stands in my blogs that
might be offensive to potential readers.
Then I
heard Barry Eisler speak at a writers’ conference. It was like the chime of a
bell, calling me to center my thoughts. He challenged those of us who think
differently from the Vince Flynns of the world to raise our authorial voices.
I had
taken one little step in that regards with a short story I wrote, “MasterGardener” published
in a 2008 anthology. One person in my critique group said, “Love the writing;
hate the politics.” What I had not done then, and has taken me a bit of time to
grapple with was deciding whether my writing should have a purpose greater than
pure entertainment.
My
conclusion is that some things I write solely for entertainment (my own and
hopefully others), and that is fine. Even with that writing, I want to avoid
easy characterizations based on stereotypes—particularly negative stereotypes. But
if that were all I wrote, at the end of life I would feel I had not used my
talents as well as I could.
Not that I expect to write the next Upton Sinclair The
Jungle or be the next Charles Dickens. I am not that talented, but I want
to write in such a way that I positively reinforce those who share my views. For
those who do not share my views, perhaps I can tweak a tiny corner of their
conscience just enough to make them consider my perspective.
What do
you think? Do I have this all wrong? Should writing only be about entertaining
readers? Or have you already donned your authorial purple clothes and are
willing to stand out—to write to make a difference?
~ Jim
