leo burghaus

For a while, I wanted to write a post called ‘Why I Write’. But I haven’t. There is a long list of ideas in my notes, that were captured in an intense burst of inspiration and that seemed filled with potential, but are now sitting there, waiting to be materialized. Seeing that I haven’t been writing as much as I would like to, today is about the internal friction I encounter. Not as an excuse, but as an exploration from a writer’s point of view, and so I can work it out.

First and foremost, I don’t feel I’m good enough at this. Comparison is the thief of joy (or something like that) and I compare myself to the writers I admire. And those beat me in depth and originality of thought, in knowledge they have and transmit, and in style. And it’s not even close. It’s not even fun. So, my human tendency to show that I am good at whatever I do paralyzes me. I’m afraid of publishing writings that come across as shallow, confusing, and that don’t at least provoke some pleasure or thought when reading it.

And feeling I haven’t made the cut with some articles doesn’t help. When I read some of the pieces I published last summer, I feel a sense of pride; I enjoy my own writings and find them interesting. But some of my last posts have not been in line with what I want my standard to be, so the fear of disappointing myself further holds me back.

Another element is the topic I chose for the blog: namely, none. I’m curious by nature about many things, but not obsessed with anything. I gravitate towards human nature, but I had fun writing about physics or the history of chess. So, I want to keep the topics as broad as possible and just write about curious things.

Which is fine, except that ‘things I find intriguing’ is not my area of expertise. I’m interested in something because I don’t know about it. Say, I’m now interested in how and why Barcelona has changed its architectural style in the last 100 years. So I dive into the topic and get answers. How can I now pretend to explain this to you, considering that 2 weeks ago I knew nothing about the topic? I just gained surface knowledge, which leaves me feeling that I shouldn’t write about it.

Another thing that makes me doubt is the style. Should there be a minimum length for each article? Should I write many short paragraphs and help myself with separators and heading for each small sections, so it is easier to glance through it? Or do I want to write essays with long paragraphs, like many of the authors I admire? Or something in between? Which one could I do better? If I choose longer essays, is the reader going to get the right reward for the extra effort of navigating through more complex sentences? Is it alright if I have different styles?

The answer is: I don’t know. I’m filled with doubt, and it leaves me in a place where I feel more safe not publishing at all.

Finally, I don’t really have a clear writing process. Writing is not a process that I know how to break down so I can do it regularly. My time and energy that I can dedicate to this hobby is limited, and the truth is that I don’t have good systems in place to get what I want out of the time I allocate to it. Inspiration usually gets me in the moments where I can’t write. When I can write I’m left with a long list of topics that I could write about, but that I’m not sure I can write about, and no idea where to start.

The good news for me is that I’m realizing how none of these things are really serious. I do this to learn and express myself. That I feel I’m not good enough is solved by getting better, which is my ultimate objective of this blog, and remembering that I was at this stage with everything else I know how to do. Not feeling qualified to write about ‘what I find interesting’ is solved by internalizing that there’s value in sharing knowledge I find from experts, even if I’m not one. My worry about the style is actually an opportunity to explore and experiment, and finding what fits best to me, or to certain topics. I’m sure I’ll end up finding what suits me and my readers best. And being stuck in the writing process, well… knowing that all other writers struggle with it helps. That gives me the opportunity to learn from other people that have passed through this situation, or are still in it.

Maybe the beauty of writing is in exactly that: wrestling with an art in which you always feel you’re not up for the task at hand.