Who For?

Good writers often talk about the audience — who are you writing for?

The act and art of writing come with a desire to communicate with the world beyond our own whirling, twirling, entangled thoughts.

When we choose to write, we are choosing to reach out and connect.

When good writers talk about their audience, they are talking about who they aim to target. This makes sense — if you aim to connect with the world, knowing where to point your Cupid’s bow and arrow has some logic. By contrast, writers who prefer their audience to find them are letting Cupid do the heavy lifting; they are leaving themselves open to receiving whatever comes their way.

Writers who let their audience “find them” are open, receptive — connected, as some say, to the feminine side — letting go of control and allowing the “forces that be” to do part of the work. Writers who have aims, goals, and clear objectives, who know their audience and practice daily at hitting the bullseye, are often seen as operating more from the masculine side.

We all have a little of both. This fluxes and flows depending on the season we are in, our culture, our circumstances, and our experiences.

For now, the question is more connected to why we write — and for whom: others or ourselves?

Naturally, the first thought that comes to mind is a little bit of both, depending again on the situation. But stripped back even further, I wonder if we each have a natural leaning one way or the other — whether we are inclined to write primarily for ourselves, or disposed toward writing for others.

Those who write for others are inevitably more “successful” in the traditional sense. They can clearly identify their target audience; they claim the identity of being a writer. They write daily, motivated by both internal and external deadlines, knowing where they are heading, whether by choice or circumstance. In today’s landscape, where “if you try to target everyone, you target no one,” this focus is essential. If we want to write and be noticed, we must decide upon our audience and go for the jugular.

Yet there are those who possibly don’t want to be noticed. They write for themselves — because writing makes them feel more alive, brings meaning, purpose, order, or structure to their world. Even writers who aim for a particular audience are often originally driven by these self-satisfying inner motivations, although that connection can sometimes get lost in the pursuit of external recognition.

Writing for others makes sense. Yet writing for the self — where maybe the audience comes, maybe they do not — is an idea worth exploring. Some would call it ludicrous, saying it will never work. But what do they mean? That it will not be “successful”? And what is success — and how is it truly measured?

There is a chance that writing for the self is not so ludicrous after all.

In fact, it might be a perfectly good way to begin.

The act of writing is the act of negotiating symbols on a page. We have been taught these symbols and employ them with varying complexity to communicate ideas. This takes learning and practice to become efficient at this method of symbol communication.

The audience can certainly be a target audience — in keeping with our masculine, capitalist understanding of the world. It can also be a practical necessity if writing is part of our work.
But writing also connects to our innate desire for human connection.

The act and art of writing may not be innate, but the act and art of connection is.

Putting pen to paper is an act of connecting with your world, regardless.

Writing is a form of connection — and this is what makes it nourishing and necessary as part of your lived experience.

Whether you type or write by hand, writing is the intellectual and emotional task of using symbols to connect.

The tools you use are up to you.

But the act of writing itself is something all of us who have had the privilege of learning this symbol system should embrace.

Writing is not a primal knowledge we are born with. It is something we learn as a consequence of our society and culture — because we desire to connect with others. By simply writing — whether for an audience or not — we are connecting with our history, our culture, and our lived experience as humans who engage with the world through language.

Whether it’s a journal, letters to friends, a fictional fantasy, a poem, or a song — letting the symbols of language share and connect what is inside you with the outside world is essential for healthy bodies, minds, and communities.

Until next time,

Mon xx