Reflecting on my time as a writer

When you first start out as an Opinion writer, the job seems relatively easy. All you need is half a vocabulary, a way with words and a lot of hot air. But the more you write, the more you realize just how little you have, and how much more you need if you want to keep going as one.

The other night, I was cruising alone down a highway at night. The night sky was beautiful, there was no other traffic but me and I was enjoying the moment so much that I stopped the car and took a picture of the highway ahead of me through the windshield.

The view was great but when I was developing the picture I realized I may have made a mistake taking it through the windshield because now the view was blurry, not to mention my phone is a terrible camera.

This is what writing an opinion article is like—you want to capture something unique, but you only have your own limited vision guiding you. At the end of the day, the final result is not as good as you want it to be and everyone else will probably see your opinion article as it is; blurry, hard to understand and a bit ugly. On the other hand, there will be those who read it who may see in it more than you do, something indeed unique. 

Now that you know my opinion about opinion pieces, how about I elaborate my opinions on my own opinion pieces. I don’t like ‘em. When I first started writing for the NDSU Spectrum, I had a goal to present the best elements of myself and help other students feel valued and determined to be the best they could be; and make some money from the contributions (mainly the second).

Then, of course, the ever-discussed pandemic happened, but I kept the goals of my contributions up. I was determined to be funny, expressive and inspiring—but mainly achieved overly metaphorical, goofy and grammatically errored fluff that I hope nobody reads (though it’s all available online). 

Looking back on my earliest contributions I honestly feel sick; it’s like being a kid and drawing with crayon on paper, what you visualize as the next “Mona Lisa,” while in reality, it’s just a stick-lady with a smile.

This brings me to my articles today; I’m getting better but have yet to warm up to them. Why do I write them? Because somebody out there probably will like them better than me, and for all I know they probably do. The troublesome thing about being a writer is you never meet your audience and don’t exactly know them; it’s like a game of telephone that never comes back to you.

If you’re writing an article and it covers a topic or offers unsavory bits of opinion you feel may offend others, worry because it will. I sometimes express my inner ideas about the messed-up state of things thinking everyone who agrees with me will read it. That won’t exactly happen so you have to be careful because you will also strike a nerve with those who know more of the issue at hand than you but lack the power of the press.

In being a Spectrum writer, I can speak for those who might but don’t have access to broadcasting like I do. I wield the power of words that can help or hurt (I try to help but I’m still green in the business and can come off heavy-handed at times). I may not look fondly at my own work, but I know somebody might.

At the end of the day, I may not look back highly at much of my “you can make the difference” or “go now and succeed” propositions published in Spectrum, but knowledge of that helps me mature into a more realistic author. 

Thank goodness I have the help of caring editors so I can better understand what I can and what I probably shouldn’t throw out for the public to read. I keep writing because I know sometime, somewhere, someone will read it, and perhaps find something worthwhile in what I have to say.