I’ve been thinking about how I have approached zine making recently, and it’s really just using a ton of text. Taking Stephen King’s advice to heart, I want to take my writing seriously but it is fun to see my own shifting towards more words and ideas. I enjoy the observed alignments, and how the paths of creativity fall into place by some amazing force. I call it God, and the Artist Way concurs, but generalises the term to the Muse. Similar attribution, but one has a ton more religious implications.
I recounted my childhood understanding of killed creative drives to some young people today. At 10, I was awarded the top creative writing story in the school, or in the level, I forget. At 11, I was told I needed to learn how to write for the exams, and I needed extra classes. System killing creativity, in action, Exhibit A: Joel. Sure okay, it’s a pity party in some sense. But whenever I work on the Artist Way in its practice, I always remember this. No one really cares, but I do, because it’s my hurts and it’s my life.
Now’s my turn for revenge. So I force everyone who follows my work creatively to read endlessly. I have so much content for zines, just at my fingertips, and I unleash it all over the indie fairs and markets I take part in. Time for everyone to learn how to read a bit.
But they probably won’t. Because all we were taught to was how to score for an exam, and not actually to write.
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