I shouldn't have even started blogging about writing clean or about content or anything. I shouldn't have even gone there. This has caused old obsessions and anxieties / fears to resurface, so dealing with that stuff all over again has really sucked. Just one obsession or fear can destroy me, and I've been dealing with several because I decided to delve into this topic. That was so super smart of me.
It really does break my heart that I just can't care about writing clean. I have to write whatever it is that comes to mind without debating myself or censoring myself. Writing is a very "hands off" activity for me. It often feels like—especially while writing a first draft—I'm sitting behind the wheel of a car, and the car is driving itself, steering itself wherever it wants to go. I just go along for the ride. For the sake of my health, that has to be my approach to this. If the writing comes out clean, then great; if it doesn't, then that's fine also. For the sake of my health, I can't be dinking around with content by trying to make it cleaner. I just have to let be everything that flows out of me and onto the page.
I do worry that I'm contributing to the world's ills, that my efforts are only adding to the stockpile of filth. But then I have to remind myself that art is a reflection of the current state of society and that I am an observer and a recorder of society's ills. That is part of my personal duty as a writer. Because of some of the unsavory stuff I write about, I do feel like a hypocrite at times, or at least I have set myself up to be accused of being such by others who either share my religious faith or who are agnostic. What I write about seems to go directly against my own personal beliefs and my own testimony of gospel truths. But all of the filthy content I have included in my books has always felt right, like it belonged, like it should be included in those pages. I have never included anything in my books that has not felt good to me. If it hadn't felt right, I would have immediately taken it out without thinking twice about it. I am a very spiritually-sensitive person, so I would have known if I had been crossing a line I shouldn't have been crossing. This may sound weird to you, but some of the universal rules are slightly different for me. Well, they have to be in order for me to even be able to exist in this world. Otherwise, I would surely go mad. God is fully aware of my situation. He is merciful and just.
For me to feel like a hypocrite because of this shtuff is just silly. It is a manifestation of the religious form of OCD that I deal with. Because of this monster that dwells inside of me, I have had to install these protections and have had to keep these walls fortified in order to protect myself. I have to take this stuff seriously. I worked too hard over the course of several years to get this horrific form of OCD under control, so I'm not about to go back. I cannot go back. I will never surrender the progress I have made for any ideal, no matter how noble it is. I do not want to go through again what I went through before where I had to basically rip my heart out of my chest over and over again and go through periods of such physical weakness from the therapy that I could hardly get out of bed. It's taken years of therapy to get to a point with the religious OCD where I can actually handle living in this world, where I don't freak out about the slightest mistakes that I make. Now, I don't feel like I have to separate myself from the world or isolate myself from it anymore in order to keep myself clean. Progress!
Not being able to hold my writing up to any lofty moral standard does make me sad because I really want to be a force for good in this life. I want to set a good example for other novelists; I want to encourage other writers to be better, to create books their mothers could be proud of, to produce novels that don't destroy children's souls (do a quick Google search for news stories about kids in school who are being forced to read Jodi Picoult's books and the pornography contained therein). I believe strongly that we should try our best to be good people and to create uplifting content. I strongly believe that we have a social responsibility to produce clean products. Unfortunately, I just can't care about any of this. And that sucks. It pains me greatly.
It hurts knowing that I cannot be like my Christian brothers and sisters in the publishing world who are providing those good examples, who are writing about uplifting themes and adding light to the world. This medical problem of mine has taken that free agency from me. All I can do is be the best I can possibly be. That will have to be good enough.
Anyways, I hope you don't judge me too harshly and are able to come to some sort of understanding of my situation and the tremendously difficult disability that I have. I do feel a little silly about showing you this side of me and all the confusion and everything. But, this is me. The real me. And writing about these issues in this blog helps me out quite a bit in that it helps me sort through my thoughts and get them in order. This blog helps me process a lot of what I am going through as a mentally-ill writer who is trying to make it as a novelist. It's almost as cathartic as writing a novel.
Thank you for reading. If you have any comments or questions, I would love to hear from you.
