On Writing in the Postmodern Age

A To Do List or: A Manifesto

Don’t snatch other people’s words off the surface of the world. Turn back on what’s buried deep in your gut, dredge it up and you’ll find it gaspingly alive, razor-sharp. After all, a story is something that encompasses the world. Write like a professional criminal, make them want to drive off a cliff (Bob Dylan Chronicles, p.33).

Listen to good old rock and roll. Listen to Rory Gallagher spinning his undying riffs. No frills, no tricks, just the grit of lyrics and the guitar moaning.

Read poetry to learn how to shatter silence and pin down the invisible. “The limits of language mean the limits of my world.” (Wittgenstein)

Read classics, the dusty bibles of letters, to learn what lasts.

Read The Hero of a Thousand Faces to learn archetypes, how every story loops and bends back on itself, then compile your own mixtape and transcend. Read C.G. Jung.

Play with words anywhere, anytime, even squished with miserable salarymen in evening trains, whenever the world is pressing against you.

Your images have to flash like a thunderbird, electric blue, purring down your street on a chirpy spring morning. (Use sparingly for maximum impact.)

Get messy now. There’s a time for polish and a time for raw. Break your obsession with cleanliness—life is far from sterile ad-copy. Always know which voice to apply.

Dust off that vintage red leather jacket. Be the spirit of what you write! Whether dark academia, grungy rock queen, or both—don’t lock yourself into a box. Become the highway you’re building.

Above all: Keep your eyes wide open, question everything.

Marginalia

This could be a new twist or it could be a flash in the pan… I’m nothing if not polished but also more abrasive than I used to be. Is it a self-fulfilling prophecy if you’re willing and in control?

It could also be the poetic version of Letter to an Aspiring Writer, a letter addressed only to myself. Obviously no one writes or thinks like I do but some might come close, which is why I’m releasing it.

Before writing this, I read about how Bob Dylan started out as a folk singer, by playing a ton in all the New York bars he could find, reading classic literature and poetry to refine his vocabulary, getting his stories from old newspapers. He did all of that for some time before he wrote his first song. Then I edited with the voice of Kerouac in the back of my head, whispering “go, go, go”.

I’m deep into rock music these days. I’ve always been fascinated by how music can hypnotise crowds, just like religions or cults do. And all that listening, reading and talking about music got me into the mood for writing songs again…

Growing up, I played the violin and even had some music theory lessons. Around that time, I tried to compose for the first time but quickly gave up again. Ten or so years later, I gave it another try, strumming random chords on the guitar and trying to get a melody that didn’t remind me of anything else—no luck. Now I know that’s not really how I learn. I need some theory, need to get an idea of the system into my head to use as scaffolding, before I start tinkering. Third time’s the charm?

This is your cue to do something you’ve always wanted to try but put off due to lack of experience, insecurity, whatever else. It’s never too late to play around! (And let me know what it is in the comments.)

The famous vintage red leather jacket.