You Don’t Have To Write

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

I settled down to read The Society of the Spectacle, the classic work on how modern society’s economy becomes all spectacle with little substance.  I’m sure I’ll have more to discuss, but I’d like to tell you about a reaction.

The book is broken into short chapters and numbered bits of analysis never more than a few paragraphs long.  While reading the analysis of how we commodify the world or turn economy to spectacle, I had ideas.  I had ideas for a book or two I could start writing . . .

Then, I stopped.  Why did I have to write now?  In fact, why the hell did I have to write these books without further analysis?  Also, did I have to read a book on commodities and want to make one?

I found other writers have this situation.  You have the realization a book can exist, and then you think you have to do it.  The cause varies, but the problem is the same.

If you find yourself in this situation, ask why you’re trying to write.

My motivation?  I want to know my works will benefit people and was evaluating my various projects.  My inspirations rode that desire right into “I must do this now,” and I only realized it a while later and stopped.

Part of being a writer is knowing what not to write.  Give yourself a chance to develop that skill, even if you have to ask some hard questions.

Steven Savage

The Tower of Babbling

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

The Attention Economy is everywhere. Hits on social media sell ad space. Pundits make stupid statements to get hits and rile voters. Everything is about getting us to look, click, and of course, serve up a few ads or maybe get a donation or sale out of us. The Attention Economy’s architects built it to use us, not serve us.

The result is a pile of data analysis, affiliated companies, shadowy agreements, and optimization. This Rube Goldberg device of attention extraction serves those wanting to make even more money and the few who can get in on the deal. It’s a meaningless edifice for most of us. There’s no there there, just people selling things through ads or wanting to get us to vote in anger.

The pinnacle of this is NFTS, where people burn up the planet to tag ugly art as theirs in what is obviousy a scam and money laundering scheme. There’s no meaning, just people insisting there is until the game of musical chairs catches fires.

Lately, I’ve been digging through old indie radio shows, some going back to the ’80s. There’s music I’ve never heard before and will likely never hear since. There’s witty commentary on the time that’s only more poignant. It’s all so personal, so real, so meaningful to the people at the time – listening to these shows, I felt the enthusiasm so strongly, an enthusiasm I missed.

That enthusiasm, that meaning came from the strong personal feel of the indie music, the skits, and the host’s passion. That connection is too rare in the attention economy. It’s hard to love something when you have to pander to the algorithm, jump on the latest trend, or spew the latest jargon just to get seen. You have to be meaningless to get the attention for things with meaning, and it’s maddening.

Throughout the pandemic, I’ve found myself engaging in what’s meaningful to me. Joining activist groups that do things. Engaging with meditative practice more strongly to understand myself. Working on a job that lets me actually do good things. I think this focus wasn’t just due to the pandemic itself, but necessary to keep myself together in the mess of the Attention Economy.

Many of us hope to slow, dissemble, or change the bizarre media mess we’re dealing with. I have some hope for regulation and great hope for engaged citizens. But one thing I can say is we need to focus on ourselves and find what we care about first. That gives you the grounding you need to do the right things – and not get swept away in the latest mathematically calculated fad or outrage.

I want to be as deep into something real as old radio show hosts were into psychobilly from Arkansas or early techno.  Maybe by being better grounded, I can help others find meaning as well.

Steven Savage

Duty Calls, Should Have Gone To Voicemail

(This column is posted at www.StevenSavage.com and Steve’s Tumblr.  Find out more at my newsletter.)

Note, I will return to my writing lessons from video games soon.  I’ve just had a lot of other inspirations lately.

At the start of the Christmas holiday, I had games to play, writing to do, a chance to pre-read Serdar’s next novel (spoiler, excellent), and much more.  I also had no desire to do any of these awesome things.

So I waited a week, then pushed myself.  I pushed myself through returning to work.  I pushed myself on my time off.  I even pushed myself to game, figuring something would be enjoyable.

Instead, everything I did felt like work most of the time, even things I enjoyed.  I didn’t seem to be depressed or down, just put upon.  No one was ordering me to do all this except me.

There’s a point where we turn wanting to do something into having to do something.  We truly care about something, but we build so much schedule and ritual around it that our core urge is lost.  Must replaces want.

For me, it was a feeling I had to do everything.  I had to stay on my schedule.  I had to get things done for friends and writing groups, etc.  No one told me I had to but me.  So it was time to change that.

I gave myself permission to drop anything or everything over the MLK weekend, and thought over what I wanted during a long walk.  In a day, my desires to read and create came back, I’d found the reasons I was doing these things by not doing them.  Now I find myself happier and more productive, and I’m even altering my plans for 2022.

(Interesting note, my urge to play video games came back last.  I suspect it’s changed and may write more on that).

You’ve probably had moments like this yourself.  Please, take a break and take time to reconnect with why you do things.  There’s no reason to loose yourself trying to do things, and you won’t get them done anyway.

Steven Savage