Reading this series of essays (which I did for the first time yesterday), it occurs to me that your choice of language is causing more than a little of the problem. (I guess, more accurately, it's the English language that's causing the problem -- and not you in particular.) The thread runs though all these essays, but is most prominent in the first, where you're asking whether or not you're a writer -- the noun -- when it would make much more sense for you to ask if you write: the verb.
I think the noun/verb problem is central to all of this. Writer, secretary, karate person, even mother -- these are not things you are. These are things you do.
I blame our culture. American society is tied up in identity. Everyone needs a compact expression of who they are. "I'm a X." is the answer to one of the first questions you get asked when someone new meets you. X is assumed to be the thing you get paid for, which makes people who don't work very uncomfortable in these situations. And if you don't have a good X, or an easily definable X, or if you don't particularly like the X you have, you're also uncomfortable.
In your second essay you're looking at the X that's based on your paycheck -- secretary -- and observe that it somehow isn't you. Of course it's not you. It's just your job.
In your first essay you're asking if you're allowed to have "writer" as X. In other words, how much of the verb do you have to do before you get to claim the noun? The honest answer is that it depends. Even more interestingly, it depends on the beholder. You said it yourself when you asked whether you consider Walter M. Miller, Jr. to be a writer even though he only wrote one book. You can consider him a writer -- the noun -- because all you know about what he did in his life -- all the verbs -- is write. Or maybe you know a few other details about him. In any case, most of the verbs you can assign to him are "write," so he can be summarized with the single noun of "writer." If you were his daughter, you wouldn't think of "writer" as his X. If you were his best friend, or barber, you might not think of "writer" as his X. If you know the many things he did in his life, your picture of him would be more complex and "writer" might not be the single X that jumps out. But from your own personal perspective, he's a writer.
Similarly, all those people on your LJ friends list who don't know you very well are more likely to consider you a writer than those people who know you more intimately. People who don't know you just see your writing; your intimates see all sorts of verbs.
I read these essays and see all different verbs. You write. You mother. You work as a secretary. You take karate lessons. (To me, those all feel more correct as verbs than nouns -- especially the last one.) You also cook and exercise and garden and etc. What's your X? It's the sum of all those verbs. It's unique to you. And as someone who sees you at your most complex and intimate -- you yourself -- it is perfectly reasonable that none of the labels quite fit. Even I can't imagine assigning a single X to you.
Save the nouns for the things that are truly nouns. You're a mammal. You're human. You're female. ("Mother" is a tough one because it is both a noun -- you are a biological mother -- and a verb: you mother your children. Most of the time the same person is both; in adoptive situations they are separate. Your essay is clearly about the verb, not the noun.)
As for the verbs, you can have as many as you want. You can have them in greater or lesser amounts, changing over time, never constant. I don't think they're your identity; I just think of them as things you do.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
(no subject)
Date: 2005-07-15 11:59 pm (UTC)I think the noun/verb problem is central to all of this. Writer, secretary, karate person, even mother -- these are not things you are. These are things you do.
I blame our culture. American society is tied up in identity. Everyone needs a compact expression of who they are. "I'm a X." is the answer to one of the first questions you get asked when someone new meets you. X is assumed to be the thing you get paid for, which makes people who don't work very uncomfortable in these situations. And if you don't have a good X, or an easily definable X, or if you don't particularly like the X you have, you're also uncomfortable.
In your second essay you're looking at the X that's based on your paycheck -- secretary -- and observe that it somehow isn't you. Of course it's not you. It's just your job.
In your first essay you're asking if you're allowed to have "writer" as X. In other words, how much of the verb do you have to do before you get to claim the noun? The honest answer is that it depends. Even more interestingly, it depends on the beholder. You said it yourself when you asked whether you consider Walter M. Miller, Jr. to be a writer even though he only wrote one book. You can consider him a writer -- the noun -- because all you know about what he did in his life -- all the verbs -- is write. Or maybe you know a few other details about him. In any case, most of the verbs you can assign to him are "write," so he can be summarized with the single noun of "writer." If you were his daughter, you wouldn't think of "writer" as his X. If you were his best friend, or barber, you might not think of "writer" as his X. If you know the many things he did in his life, your picture of him would be more complex and "writer" might not be the single X that jumps out. But from your own personal perspective, he's a writer.
Similarly, all those people on your LJ friends list who don't know you very well are more likely to consider you a writer than those people who know you more intimately. People who don't know you just see your writing; your intimates see all sorts of verbs.
I read these essays and see all different verbs. You write. You mother. You work as a secretary. You take karate lessons. (To me, those all feel more correct as verbs than nouns -- especially the last one.) You also cook and exercise and garden and etc. What's your X? It's the sum of all those verbs. It's unique to you. And as someone who sees you at your most complex and intimate -- you yourself -- it is perfectly reasonable that none of the labels quite fit. Even I can't imagine assigning a single X to you.
Save the nouns for the things that are truly nouns. You're a mammal. You're human. You're female. ("Mother" is a tough one because it is both a noun -- you are a biological mother -- and a verb: you mother your children. Most of the time the same person is both; in adoptive situations they are separate. Your essay is clearly about the verb, not the noun.)
As for the verbs, you can have as many as you want. You can have them in greater or lesser amounts, changing over time, never constant. I don't think they're your identity; I just think of them as things you do.
B