Shared Thoughts of 4 Former English Students

Carla - go for it on the book! that is great! I recently (last night) had a re-affirmation of the beauty of literature and writing. I went to hear Salman Rushdie (I love NY!) and some others read and discuss their works. He said something that really got me - "The reason for writing fiction is to say something about the real world." As a lit major, this is something that should have been really obvious to me; however, I had gotten into this mind-set that if i choose to pursue writing that it is completely self-serving. Of course, this isn't the case at all. Words connect people, teach people, and change lives. Just look at how the written word has affected all of us. I don't know how I could overlook this. I think I got caught up in the academic aspect of it all - that getting published was to build up a portfolio or resume. When publishing is really just getting your words out there for others to enjoy or learn from or react to. So in fact, my former mindset was completely contradicting reality. It could be said that writing and not sharing it is the most self-serving form of writing. Anyway, it was a moment of "ah-ha" for me. One I really needed. The connection between non-fiction and fiction really is so critical to understanding the world. Just look at the Vietnam class we took (well, Tom and I) - the film and literature attached to the war allowed people to get inside that world and try to understand it. Reality is the base, but it creates a jumping off point for the fiction to take us into a place the news cannot. Non-fiction writing tells us how it is, but fiction allows us to live it. It is so powerful. Writing and reading is as much a service to the world as anything else. I hope I don't forget that again. If I do, I hope there is always someone to remind me. Perhaps one day I will go to the library to hear one of you speak. But I hope you will at least give me a free pass or something. Don't forget the absent-minded little folks like me. The world sometimes just creeps up on me, and kills the passion of writing. Sneaky little bastard, that world. So, keep the words coming friends. They are beautiful, like you.

sc :)