“If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper. Without a cloud, there can be no rain; without rain, the trees cannot grow; and without trees, we cannot make paper. The cloud is essential for the paper to exist. If the cloud is not here, the sheet of paper cannot be here either.”
Thich Nhat Hanh, The Other Shore
The Other Shore is Thay’s (Thay is his followers’ nickname for the late Vietnamese Zen monk) translation and interpretation of the Heart Sutra, a core teaching of Buddhism that deals with the relationship between being and emptiness. The sutra deals with the interconnectedness of all things, with no separate self.
The quote above is a lovely summation of the Heart Sutra which, in logical Western minds, can turn into an overabundance of philosophizing. If Thich Nhat Hanh descended into philosophy, as a reader I would likely disconnect. He’d lose me.
The ability to connect with a reader at a deep and satisfying level is the essence of any good writing. I’m not sure it is something that can be taught but it can be learned.
Why certain stories resonate
The Great Gatsby was a flop when it came out, which may have been the final straw leading to F. Scott Fitzgerald’s long gradual decline and death. Yet this story gradually gathered readers over time until it became a book generally considered one of the greatest novels of the twentieth century.
Fitzgerald did not live to see his masterpiece be recognized for what it was. But what about it had that staying power? The simple answer is that we can relate to the narrator, Gatsby’s neighbor, and Gatsby himself, a tragic figure and a victim of the success culture of America, a culture that exists to this day.
We see ourselves in these two men, one a writerly invention created to lend an outside perspective to the tragedy of the other, all wrapped in a dream of the perfect life. Telling this story through the eyes of a ‘normal’ man was the genius of Fitzgerald’s narrative. We can all relate to the narrator, a good man.
Any good piece of writing, including non-fiction, pop culture, and even the political observations I write almost daily, must find that connection. They must speak one on one with the reader. That conversation may find the reader connecting with a strange or spurious narrator or one whose surface humor hides a glint of darkness.
It’s that glint that keeps us going as readers. It’s a form of foreshadowing. Journalists do it when they build to a twist, some startling event or piece of information that changes the reader’s perspective. Fitzgerald did it by having his narrator observe the very strange lifestyle of his neighbor and then get sucked into it.
In my Medium stuff, which varies wildly in popularity, I strive to see the thread that works in some pieces and is somehow missing in others. While I am writing about factual events, I am not a journalist because my personality and opinions run through my writing. I also try to inject some optimism into articles about some very dark situations.
That optimism may be where the connection takes place. Writing for media that provides immediate feedback in the form of algorithmically-generated stats and reader comments, likes, and follows is a modern development. Fitzgerald did not get to see his novel gradually build momentum among avid fans and via word of mouth the way we can see how readers respond.
Fakery
One of the big downsides to online writing platforms is writers who try to make connections by imitating popular stories or using tired gimmicks like listicles, those ‘7 Ways to Change Your Life This Morning’ things. In general this fakery can be a sign of an immature writer who has limited life experience.
I’m willing to cut them some slack, unless they constantly keep writing and publishing the same crap without attempting to grow as a writer and a human. By the way, acquiring all your knowledge online is not actual experience of your own, it is just facts, many of which are likely untrue.
As a reader, I want to hear true stories, even if they are about self improvement. When I was writing marketing content, case studies of user experiences with a product or service were easily the most powerful content we could provide. But they had to be specific, use real names, and reveal challenges that a buyer could relate to.
A good story, in other words.
There is a phrase common in the software world: Garbage In, Garbage Out. Write sloppy code and you will get a buggy product. A lot of bad writing is sloppy code. And that’s what loses readers. You have to do the work.
A bit of a rant I guess. Here in the northeastern US this weekend we were promised lovely blue fall skies but there is a high haze, the outer fringe of the monster storm Ian as it falls to pieces, far too late to save Florida and portions of the mid-Atlantic coast.
I want to write a piece about the futility of rebuilding a state whose existence no longer makes any sense in a warming world. But it kind of stinks of kicking people when they are down. A lot of dreams lie in pieces along with the piles of boats littering the coastal area and nestled down amongst roofless homes.
I guess I’ll sit on that story for a bit.
Thanks again for reading. M
935 words.
Oh, if this flips your switch you can buy me a coffee…
For a writer writing about writing, this piece is very discombobulated going from Thich Nhat Hanh to F. Scott Fitzgerald and pulling in fakery, etc. etc. It’s the problem with writing every day, at least for publication. Sometimes you simply don’t have anything to say. I found that with Medium writers. They may feel they have to publish every day to keep up their readership whereas sometimes they have nothing to say. So they repeat themselves or just write garbled prose. I write essays too but only when I’ve really thought about what I want to say and believe it’s worth saying ergo I have a tiny readership. But I never put anything into print that’s not carefully thought out and truly felt. No doubt F. Scott Fitzgerald felt the same way.