The Pressure or the Pen?

And the winner is the pressure or the pen?

So your are going to write?

Yes?

What are you going to write? Will you work on your thesis? Your lesson plan for Introduction to Fiction? Or the motion for court? Journal entries? Your resume, the budget or program for the church? Maybe a love letter to the man you want in your life? How about the performance piece to resolve that incomplete grade? There is always that homework assignment for the non-fiction writing workshop. Or this or that or this or that or the other. What are you going to write?

Oh, and, before you get started: can you really afford the time to write? After all there are so many other things you really need to get done. Don't you hear them calling? Louder, louder! Do you hear them now?

What difference does this writing thing make anyway? Do you really think it is going to make a difference in your life? In the quality of your life? In the outcome of the foreclosure case, or the overdue taxes, or your underemployment situation?

I know, if you sit down and write your car note will miraculously be paid, you won't have to borrow anymore and your body will automatically be healed. You won't have to grade those papers, pay those bills, return those calls, study for that test, pray without ceasing, preach the gospel, lay hands and the sick and they recover, resolve all the issues of the past, find creative ways to love yourself while waiting to be loved, limp, hurt, cry, beg, give. You won't have to do anything if you write. Face it baby girl, you are bugging out if you think writing is going to make a significant difference in your life.

I was watching the movie Precious the other night. In a scene, Precious is in class and it's journal writing time. The only thing on her page is, "Why me?" Her teacher says, "Write Precious; you have to write." The student argues, "I don't have anything to write." The teacher pressures the student to obey instructions and Precious curses her teacher out informing the entire class she just found out she is HIV positive; in addition, she's been raped by her father since she was three ages old, has two children by him -- one with Downs Syndrome -- has never had a boyfriend, is being sexually and physically abused by her mother, is homeless and reads and writes and a third grade level. The teacher looks at Precious and says, "Write...."

I went to sleep that night saying to myself, "I just don't get it."

"You said you've never had a change to tell your story."