Why I write; also, Why I don't

Do you know, I have so much terrible poetry stored up in me from my childhood; and, do you know, it still affects me, sometimes, more than some of the excellent poetry I have loved and learned since then?

I have High Ideas about art--I would rather not write at all than not write as well as I want to (I am understanding how stupid that is)-- but they are not right ideas. Is it better to produce something that meets my own personal standards of brilliance or to produce something that affects people, that stays with them, however lowbrow it may be? I can't decide.

On the one hand, I feel personally compelled not to contribute to the mass of terrible writing that is already available for consumption. A recent trip to B&N resulted in an hour of bemused disgust in viewing sequel after sequel of Pride and Prejudice, including but not limited to Mr. Darcy's Sister; Mr. Darcy's Daughters; Mr. Darcy and Me; Elizabeth's Betrothal; The Shades of Pemberley; Mr. Darcy, Vampyre; The Wooing of Elizabeth, equivalent in my mind to a sort of literary prostitution. Poor Jane. Of course you can imagine something that's already been imagined. Of course you can warp what's already been created. If you can't write or imagine or "make up" yourself, that is. I don't think loathing is too strong a word for what I feel for this sort of "literature". I hate it. I think it could all be destroyed and the world would be a better place.

The same is true, to an even greater extent, with fiction marketed as "Christian." I pick on the Jane Austen fanfics because those are currently saturating the market. But as a Christian, and as one who, if not a writer herself, at least appreciates writing, that stuff makes me alternately writhe with rage and howl with laughter. It also makes me squirm with discomfort. My great fear is that if I were to begin writing, really do it, actually attempt the presumptuous act of fictive creation--that it would end up like that writing I judge and mock and scorn.

So I don't write. I know something of my capabilities: I've finished a few short stories and memoir pieces. It is rarely a satisfactory experience. I want to write better than I do, and of course, the way to improve is through writing more. Practice. But some people practice--and practice--and practice--and never achieve anything better than Mr. Darcy's Harem.

On the other hand, however I may rail against them, those books have found an audience. People who read them are entertained. I don't just want to entertain people. Would I be false to my ideals to produce and share writing that I am not proud of? That is not up to my standard of what is Good Writing?

Or, worse--could I stand to produce anything and have it ignored? Could I stand to fail? As it stands, no. I can't. I have, apparently, an imaginary reputation to protect.

It remains to be seen how I will handle this. I have a convenient collection of empty notebooks. Maybe it's time I began to fill them, to see what I'd have at the end of it.