I write, therefore I am

I write, therefore I am

The Sydney Writers Festival is in full swing.

I love the fact they plant this festival snugly into the cooler months. There is something cosy about listening to writers and poets in a cavernous studio with your winter coat and scarf on. I can’t imagine rocking up to Pier One in shorts and singlets, swinging around bookstands.

I love hearing the authors of words speak. Sometimes they put me into fits of laughter, sometimes they make me fall silent with emotion and other times for all the wrong reasons. I recently had to leave Annie Proulx’ chat about her book, mainly because I couldn’t stop laughing and, sadly for her and me, not because it was funny.

Jana Wendt was my favourite a few years ago. She speaks and you feel ashamed of your own twang and incorrect usage of words.  Inspired, though, I was and still am.

I write. Therefore I am a writer. You, dear reader with dextrous limbs also write. Therefore you too are a writer.

Writing is good for the soul, it’s therapy. You can say what you want, how you want, as descriptive as you want. You can tell your story, you can tell your pain, you can even make it a rhyming sort of game.

Pick up a pen, write to your mates, tell them how much they mean to you. In hieroglyphics and love heart full stops, tell them anything.

Pick up your hungry notepad, tell it your secrets, speak of your foes — a Machiavellian masterpiece awaits the folds.

Imitate a song and steal a lyric. Borrow a line and ignore your critic. Treasure a poem, so short and sweet.

See, it’s fun, I told you, my dear fellow. Now write down in the comments below — a line, a song, or an idea that’s inside what you lay on your pillow.

info: You can follow John on Twitter @daddydearest_

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11 responses to “I write, therefore I am”

  1. So many positive comments!!! It is a great read, however, when I see multiple remarks like this under the one bit I begin to get suspicious that perhaps the author, their mates or in house is doing a little PR on the side. There are a number of excellent writers for this paper, perhaps it is the editor in me making me cynical. Undoubtedly a good read, however it is a shame to see this happen with any writer

  2. John, as always it’s a pleasure to read your work.
    I live by my saying ‘Life is too short for me to take you seriously.’
    Although sometimes, someone will write something that makes you think deeper about the subject, changes your opinion, moves you to cry or makes you laugh out loud.
    Keep up the great work John and I look forward to reading it from afar.

  3. You’re a poet, and you didn’t know it!
    ;-)
    Never give up, never surrender!!
    xxx

  4. I love your columns Daddy Dearest
    They open up our eyes
    To be the best that we can be
    no prejudice, no lies

    Your honesty is so courageous
    Your life with us, you share
    Once a week we hear your tales
    You write, because you dare

    So keep the columns coming
    Keep on being brave
    Then what you have in the end
    Is the knowledge that you gave

    You gave to those who stay silent
    You gave to those who speak
    You gave the world a Daddy Dearest
    Gave strength when you were weak
    Love you x

  5. Don’t hide yourself in regret,
    Just love yourself and you’re set
    I’m on the right track, baby
    I was born this way

  6. You are right … we can all write, but some have the gift to engage and draw others into their stories … as you do. You are a writer, others (including me) string words together to try and get a message across …. there is a difference. You make us question, think, admirer, appreciate, love, etc words and lyrics … thank you.

  7. If I had it my way I would write all day every day. I would write about those things I love and for those people I cannot do without. Also for those who I cannot stand, writing would allow me to communicate that angst in a state of mind best fitting for that point in time. I would throw in the proverbial towel, my alarm wouldn’t wake me and I could stare aimlessly into space only without my peers disrupting my daydreams. Speaking of, my daydream would appear to life. No longer stored in this domain of mine. I could sit at my laptop or notepad in my “house clothes”, no longer would I spend hours ironing, creasing, primping and preening myself in readiness for the daily trip to the office. I would make me rich and not my employer rich. Rich in heart and soul, bank balance perhaps not. My friends would see more of me, a happier me. Sure the wine wouldn’t be so fancy but I would be less drunk and more merry. I would write in the sand, on the back of the public toilet loo, in wet concrete and on my husbands forearm. I would use a pen, a pencil, a crayon, my fast typing digits, my finger, a paintbrush. Most importantly, I would never have to lose a thought, idea, emotion, nor a memory… everything I did could and would be documented. The only choice for me would come down to who I would share all of this with – perhaps everyone, perhaps no-one, perhaps just someone. Laugh and cry, shiver and shake and finally I’d write this – she who writes, lives true to herself.

  8. What a fun notion. The original saying was, I beleive, to be considered proof to ourselves that we do in fact exist. We may be “a butterly that wakes from a dream of being human”, however at least the part of us that thinks can be assumed to be real. To write however means that we exist also to the reader…. or readers… through time… assuming of course that someone does read what we have written… and that we do not wake.

  9. Dearest John ,

    I read your articles as often as I can, I love your writing style and the hidden messages they sometimes give. Writing is one of Gods beauties/gift and you sure have it……. by the way Dearest daddy , I can imagine you rocking up to Pier One in shorts and singlets, swinging around bookstands. I gather from what i read , you have style, character, confidence and your capable of almost anything …… olalalalaaaaaa

  10. Wow, as the ink dries in my pen and my notepad pages turn yellow, I look at how quickly I can type and text, there is nothing nicer than receiving a wonderful handwritten letter or card, just so personal…Jotting in a diary, I need to learn to write again – thanks for the inspiration :-)