WRITING: Honesty

In studying Ethics, it is obvious that honesty and fairness are relatives, but reason rules. In art and in its dealings with aspiring painters, writers, sculpters, photographers and creative outpouring of any sort at all, I wonder how big a part of the process do experience, ethics, honesty and fairness need to be.

I do not watch American Idol but cannot help but know what’s going on just from the station blurbs that bombard us till it’s over.  While it is exploitive to the artists, there is the caveat that they know what they’re getting into.  There is no doubt that some make fools of themselves willingly and the show is equally willing to use them for entertainment value.  The viewing audience is not blameless either, as it seems we have never gotten over our historical love for the fool.  It makes us laugh, it makes us feel better about ourselves in some sad way.

But the premise of American Idol is that it is possible to take a wide variety of singers and narrow it down to the very best.  How can that be?  If a female sings country and a man sings opera for example, how can they be compared?  My guess is that there is more to the selection than voice alone, or style alone; elements that make up the whole picture that include showmanship, diversity, saleability, etc.

What I’m thinking about this morning is how this relates to writers, and while the cruel honesty of opinion offered by Simon is partly done for effect and usually too rude for my sensitive nature, there is some measure of truth in what he says, or the show wouldn’t be a success, and the top contestants wouldn’t be generally well-liked, talented, and supported by the viewers.  By the same token, the really bad performers seen in the beginning shows are clear losers, used by the program to draw the audience to a dedicated mass while the show gets more seriously concerned with its business of finding a potential star.

It works.  Out of the crowds of those who truly believed they were good, however, I wonder what convinced them of this, and how it was so obvious to America that they clearly were not.  There is a standard of sorts, then; a general consensus of what is great and what is absolutely lousy.  Why then, aren’t we more honest with our writers? 

It seems that in an industry that is just as tough as being a performer, honesty–tempered with sensitivity to the writers’ feelings–would be the nicest thing we could do for them.  Writers work hard, and it takes a lot emotionally and in other ways out of them in pursuing their goal.  To be told to "write for yourself" may be the kindest veil of dismissal but it’s enough to keep them going.  To spend more effort and time and tears in laying their soul bare onto paper and screen.  To my knowledge, no one has ever told the aspiring singer to keep at it, "sing for yourself."

I’m guilty myself of veiled discouragement, knowing the hope and dreams of the creative spirit.  We hate to hurt someone’s feelings (except for Simon, who is likely responsible for changing minds and creating some absolutely outstanding accountants, secretaries, etc.), but I think that the one thing we can do is truly encourage the potential of those who possess it by more than mere condescending pats on the back that differ in no way from what we hope are the gentle hidden discouragement to the hopelessly untalented but deeply committed writer.

Personally, I am going to take the "write for yourself" and lack of enthusiasm for what it is meant to be; a more politically correct version of "don’t quit your day job."