Leggo my ego?

Hey Maria,
Happy Thursday! While I should be glazing over diligently reading over this philosophical essay on abjection and other vampire-ish things (who knew vampires could be so literary?), I somehow ended up thinking about my essay for our other English class. Normally I'm intimidated by that teacher since she blames all the world's problems on our generation, but today I was doing an internal happy dance--okay, maybe it was a little external too--because she loved my essay. I had no idea what the fudge I was doing, and I just sort of blahhhed on a page (as any quality English major tends to do), but somehow that turned into inspiration ideas of sorts, and I'm kinda feeling like I won the lottery of ego massagers right here.

Trouble is, English, make that college, is not about making one's head swell up to the size of a pumpkin. It's about learning, thinking, and informing the world. I did not create the literary genius that is Nabokov's work, I only analyzed it. But since a professional said my ideas were good, I went from thinking I had written the most crap essay in the history of essays, to running around singing "I believe I can fly!" because I was in one of those moods you only see in cheesy romantic comedies. And it got me thinking--is there any way you can separate your pride/ego from your writing?

I mean, think about it. One of the first things we're told is to write what you know. And I don't make it a secret that most of my work is a reflection of myself. I mean, why else would I write a 200 page bitch-fest about a pitiful crush? You know what, don't remind me. Tenth grade was just weird. Obviously I didn't write about Lolita to reflect upon myself (only to reflect on what grade I wanted), but part of this was to get the whole "why, this is the most insightful piece of literature I have ever encountered!" reaction. Why does it matter what the reader thinks of the author? Shouldn't it only matter that the reader understands what the author is trying to get across? Writing is most certainly not a popularity contest. Yet some of the most vulnerable parts of ourselves get put out there for all the world to see. And thus, the reaction to our writing is seldom separate from the reaction to ourselves.

Peace and Ponies,
Kira