Smithy Takes
To the WindowI walk to the window and open the curtains. I stand in front of the glass as I take off my shirt. The neighbors stop. They stare. My breath fogs the window in front of my face, blurring the outside world. I jauntily wave to my neighbors while I yank off my pants.
It's not a sexy act. It's matter-of-fact. I am removing every article of clothing while a crowd gathers outside my window to gawk.
This is what it's like to write in public. To write is to be naked.
Writing isn't just the telling of a story. It's an exposure to your very core. When you write, you translate your most complex thoughts into simple, black-and-white words for the world to read and judge. Where was Stephen King's mind when he wrote It? What did his mother think? His neighbors? Were they creeped out whenever he entered the room?
When Orwell wrote 1984, did his friends chuckle that he was a little too paranoid? Did they whisper about him when he walked away?
I say— let them laugh. Let everyone who passes by the exhibitionist at the window point and say, "God, she looks fat."
At least they're looking.
Whether they are good, bad, or mediocre, writers have an incredible gift. They have, at their fingertips, the ability to create entire worlds built upon the thoughts and ideals that they hold most sacred. They can act out their passions, rage against the unjust, ride on horseback against untold numbers of enemies, and return home unscathed.
Some say that fiction doesn't reflect the author— that characters can behave any way they choose and their actions have nothing to do with the person who created them.
But it's impossible to make any character speak words that didn't come from the recesses of your own brain. Whether those words were pulled from a memory or a thought, they are part of you. And you stuck them out there without regard for anyone's feelings.
You stood. Naked.
Your mind was just as exposed as your body ever could be.
With this in mind, some friends and I created StandingAroundNaked.com, a site specifically for writers.
There, you can point, laugh, and jeer at the writers who bravely expose themselves. Or, if you're a writer, you can find a window and stand at it. You can close your eyes if you like, or wear a blindfold that shields you from the neighbors’ stares.
For the next few weeks, the site will be under construction, but we'll be taking submissions. If you submit early, you'll be the first posted and the first to be stared at. It's a terrifying thrill.
One story is already up. It's called "Eleven" and it's my nakedness. I'm tired of closeting myself away and filling journals with work no one will read. I'm ready. I'm at the window.
See you there.
Labels: Smithy
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