Of course, it all depends on what you're setting up to write in the first place.
For argument's sake, I'll limit myself to personal writing.
I feel I have to open a parenthesis here to clarify that any non-academic writing is kind of personal or, at the very least, contains some personal elements, unless it is pure (and therefore very bad) fiction/romance - think King or Steele, although even these two have their (many) readers; but then, what it comes down to is they're entertainers. End of parenthesis.
So why the block? Because of the "others" (hell is others, wrote Sartre). Sure you can write about personal experiences but there is a thin line between personal and anal-umbilical writing. Too often the Western notion of individualism or personality is misunderstood as "unique" or, among more misguidedly "aware 'individuals'" as "free from external constraints". It only takes that little additional analytical approach to admit that an "individual" exists only in relation to and because of others. The existence of the others is a condition sine qua non for the existence of the one - a step further beyond the Cartesian imperative.
So whenever one writes about one's self, one needs to make felt the presence of others in order to be present oneself.
Back to the block. I've posted a picture on this block of a t-shirt with the mention "Writer's Block: When Your Imaginary Friends Won't Talk to You"; that should easily apply to pure fiction.
However, when it comes to personal writing, it is not imaginary friends but real ones that one comes to call upon for creating the "others", ergo the "one". The problem with these friends is not their silence but, on the contrary, their verbosity: they simply won't shut up. Human relations have become so superficial or relegated to "relations with electronic/online personae" that it becomes harder to define those relations and the "others" on which they are built. By a conscious effort to do justice to those "others" so as to define them more accurately (and thus be able to define oneself in relationship to them), one unlocks a whole new dimension not usually taken into account in the day-to-day. That is when many of the "others" who make us who we are start acquiring a voice of their own - sometimes for the first time in our shared lives.
Opening this Pandora's box results in a whole spectrum of new psychological and psychosocial considerations. From this perspective, the "others" overwhelm one, shedding the light on the wrong one has done them and on one's own selfish narrow views. How often one takes the "others" for granted or does not holds prejudices against them. The realization of one's shortcomings should be guilt-inducing enough but the issue doesn't end there. One's "characters" (based on the "others" one knows) now appear in all their glory and come back with a vengeance to become one's tormentors. The free flow of writing automatically stops to allow for an examination of one's conscience and a whole new reassessment of one's notions and conceptions of the "others". Empathy with those "others" becomes a double-edged sword here and a reconciliation is necessary before taking any one step further.
Then again, if those "others" happen to be too deeply rooted in one's perception of them as inherently evil or stupid, the issue is voided. The problem then is that once more one will have fallen in the trap of self-indulgence and retreated into one's oyster shell. The "others" are not simply black or white and therein lies the whole reason why they are "hell" to one.
For argument's sake, I'll limit myself to personal writing.
I feel I have to open a parenthesis here to clarify that any non-academic writing is kind of personal or, at the very least, contains some personal elements, unless it is pure (and therefore very bad) fiction/romance - think King or Steele, although even these two have their (many) readers; but then, what it comes down to is they're entertainers. End of parenthesis.
So why the block? Because of the "others" (hell is others, wrote Sartre). Sure you can write about personal experiences but there is a thin line between personal and anal-umbilical writing. Too often the Western notion of individualism or personality is misunderstood as "unique" or, among more misguidedly "aware 'individuals'" as "free from external constraints". It only takes that little additional analytical approach to admit that an "individual" exists only in relation to and because of others. The existence of the others is a condition sine qua non for the existence of the one - a step further beyond the Cartesian imperative.
So whenever one writes about one's self, one needs to make felt the presence of others in order to be present oneself.
Back to the block. I've posted a picture on this block of a t-shirt with the mention "Writer's Block: When Your Imaginary Friends Won't Talk to You"; that should easily apply to pure fiction.
However, when it comes to personal writing, it is not imaginary friends but real ones that one comes to call upon for creating the "others", ergo the "one". The problem with these friends is not their silence but, on the contrary, their verbosity: they simply won't shut up. Human relations have become so superficial or relegated to "relations with electronic/online personae" that it becomes harder to define those relations and the "others" on which they are built. By a conscious effort to do justice to those "others" so as to define them more accurately (and thus be able to define oneself in relationship to them), one unlocks a whole new dimension not usually taken into account in the day-to-day. That is when many of the "others" who make us who we are start acquiring a voice of their own - sometimes for the first time in our shared lives.
Opening this Pandora's box results in a whole spectrum of new psychological and psychosocial considerations. From this perspective, the "others" overwhelm one, shedding the light on the wrong one has done them and on one's own selfish narrow views. How often one takes the "others" for granted or does not holds prejudices against them. The realization of one's shortcomings should be guilt-inducing enough but the issue doesn't end there. One's "characters" (based on the "others" one knows) now appear in all their glory and come back with a vengeance to become one's tormentors. The free flow of writing automatically stops to allow for an examination of one's conscience and a whole new reassessment of one's notions and conceptions of the "others". Empathy with those "others" becomes a double-edged sword here and a reconciliation is necessary before taking any one step further.
Then again, if those "others" happen to be too deeply rooted in one's perception of them as inherently evil or stupid, the issue is voided. The problem then is that once more one will have fallen in the trap of self-indulgence and retreated into one's oyster shell. The "others" are not simply black or white and therein lies the whole reason why they are "hell" to one.
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