The more I give up my ego, the stronger writer I become. Sometimes I feel like the world and its many personalities distract me from the meaningful. When I worry I’m not good enough, I start writing for the wrong reasons. To put it another way, I shouldn’t write to be heard; I should write because I have something to say.
For the last two years, I’ve been thinking a lot about nothingness: no good or bad, no right or wrong, no incorrect or correct, no ego. This concept of void ended up being a predominant theme in my manuscript, but I still struggle to achieve this state of zero.
Strip away our cities, our walls, our rules, our senses, ourselves. Strip enough away and nothing remains. Like a post-apocalyptic world…
“Nights dark beyond darkness and the days more gray each one than what had gone before. Like the onset of some cold glaucoma dimming away the world.”—from The Road by Cormac McCarthy
I don’t know why that quote has stuck with me for so long. Maybe it hits a little close to home. It brings to mind a gradual ceasing of existence like our lives only matter if we’re seen. It’s the proverbial tree in the woods scenario except we are the trees and I want to be a strong enough writer to write in the absence of sound.