Mortimer Adler observed that “[w]hat binds the authors together in an intellectual community is the great conversation in which they are engaged. In the works that come later in the sequence of years, we find authors listening to what their predecessors have had to say about this idea or that, this topic or that. They not only harken to the thought of their predecessors, they also respond to it by commenting on it in a variety of ways.”

This week we’ve considered the many reasons why we read literature.  But we must not forget also to write.

Some of what you write might not be any good—and that’s okay.  William Faulker was right when he said, “Get it down. Take chances. It may be bad, but it’s the only way you can do anything really good.”

I can tell on many mornings that a good lot of you listen to what I have written in these little reflections, and you think to yourselves, “well, that was a total waste of time!”  Maybe so.

Of course, writing something worth reading, like doing anything well, is hard work.  But, as Henry Miller said, it also is “its own reward.” 

Flannery O’Connor wrote to “discover what [she knew]”; Camus wrote, believing that “the purpose of a writer is to keep civilization from destroying itself”; Walt Whitman said that “we don’t read and write poetry because it’s cute.  We read and write poetry because we are members of the human race”; and for Isaac Asimov, “writing…is simply thinking through my fingers.” 

Whatever it is you have to say, whatever moves you to write, and whether you toss in the garbage or post it on your bedroom wall, just don’t miss the chance.

Reading literature is important—even essential.  But at some point, you need to join the conversation.  And the only way to do that, is to write.

Have a wonderful day.