Knowing and Writing

“Write what you know.” This has always been a standard line given by writers to fellow writers and non-writers alike.

 

Write what you know. Well, what do I know? What do I know? What do I know? What do I know? Seriously.

 

I would like to take that advice and use it. Truly, I do. But when faced with a blank sheet of paper (or a clean, white screen of a new Microsoft Word Document), I am struck dumb. What do I know, indeed? What do I know that is worth putting down on paper (whether on the kind that we killed a gazillion trees, which we turned into pulp and then into nice, clean, and white sheets of biodegradable material or its digital version) for?

 

I can’t very well write about medicine or molecular biology or nuclear physics. I suck at science. Besides, I didn’t study those things. I made it a point to forget all my lessons the minute I was sure I was done with anything remotely close to pure science and math, particularly calculus and statistics.

 

Write what you know. And I can’t think of a single thing that I know so I can actually put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard, as the actual case may be) to start writing about it. Sigh. It galls me no end to realize that I may not know everything after all. And here I was thinking that I am the most knowledgeable creature on the face of the planet. NOT!

 

Seriously though, if people are limited to writing about what they know, then what would happen to creativity and imagination? What abut people like J.R. Tolkien or C.S. Lewis or J.K. Rowling? (Notice how all these excellent fantasy writers have initials at the beginning of their names? Hmmm… That’s an idea. Maybe future fantasy writers should use their initials so they can have a better chance at succeeding. Anyway, I digress…)

 

But then again, maybe if we look at it in a different way… Write what you know. Well, I know about friendship and love. I know about family and forgiveness. I know about having much and having none. I know about pain and suffering. I know about trauma and redemption. I know about laughter and tears. Maybe I don’t need to know about math or science or law or painting or computer languages. These things I can easily research. Maybe what “write what you know” is really about that --- what you know… about life.

 

I can do that. I can write about life. Mine. I can write about dreams. Mine. I can write down what I imagine life to be. I can write about what I want to do. I can write about other people as I observe them. I can write about anything I want because I will be writing what I know. Because I will be writing in a world that I inhabit (with Mr. Darcy perhaps?).

 

So, yes. Write what you know. And I know everything there is to know about what I want to write about. And if that isn’t enough… then, I will write about that, too. About not knowing enough. And then… Then, I’ll know.