Maybe Writing Doesn’t Need to Make Sense

For a while, I struggled a lot internally with the inconsistencies I found in my writing. Looking back to earlier pieces I’ve written, I can easily pick up on the lazy and incomplete arguments, abrupt endings, ideas that got lost somewhere along the way, and the overall cringiness of some (many) grammatical errors.

But the more I write and the more I read, the more I appreciate these flaws. Dissecting a book after I’ve finished the final chapter, questioning whether the ending made sense, finding plot holes along the way, and letting my mind fill up with a million questions the author failed to answer, are some of the most exciting aspects of reading to me.

Personally, I find those books that are tied in a nice and neat little bow at the end quite boring. I forget what I’ve read as soon as the book closes. They’re not accurate depictions of how life really is. We’re never meant to have all of our questions answered. There’s a lot of beauty in the mystery of not knowing. It’s really those stories, or other pieces of writing, that leave space for flaws that open my mind up to deeper contemplation.

If a piece of writing is perfect, then there is nothing left to be said after it’s all said and done. The author has managed to cover everything and the reader is free to move on with their lives. And, of course, no piece of writing is completely perfect, but some get a lot closer than others.

One of my favorite authors of all time is someone who I’d consider to be very imperfect in his writing style: Kurt Vonnegut. His writing is sometimes so incomprehensible that it leaves me wondering what the hell he just said. But, it’s not incomprehensible enough for me to completely disregard everything he’s saying.

Maybe the whole idea I’m exploring is really just the literary version of abstract art. Some people love the mystery of it, the fact that it could be interpreted in a million different ways. However, other people may not so much, viewing them as meaningless and empty ramblings.

And maybe a lot of it is empty and meaningless. Does writing need to be completely meaningful, all the time, in order to be valid? Do thoughts need to make complete sense before we attempt to communicate them? Does the act of attempting to communicate an idea that has not yet been fully formed add value in a different sense of the word?

Even if 99% of what someone says is completely meaningless, there’s still that 1% that manages to strike a deeper chord, and I’d say that small percentage, added up overtime, makes a big impact. If 1% of understanding is all I can manage in my writing, I think I’m okay with that.