I am Going to Write Something Clever

Something Clever.


There you have it.

I have written something clever, something mind-twisting, something jaw-dropping. Something crazy. Something thought-provoking.

Something no one has ever written before. Something revolutionary. Something strange. Something new. Something different. Something that will change your mind. Something that will change the world. Something that will inspire youthful, college-aged, easily-agitated and easily-fooled idealists. Something that will make old conservatives point fingers and cause their jowels to quiver in distaste. Something that will be discussed, debated, and disected for ages and ages to come.

Something that will be the first quote of a book. Something someone will use in a speech. Something that will be referenced to by this side or that to argue this side or that. Something that will be written on classroom walls in crayon and construction paper. Something that will be etched out in gold along the archways of ivy league gates. Something that will be written on a thousand headstones to come.

I have written something clever.

And what in the world is all this supposed to mean?!

(Cue rewinding noise, reality spins backwards, ugly lines flash across the television screen, people fall upwards, windows go from shattered to whole, my fingers backtrack across the keyboard...)

Now that I have officialy returned to the wonderful world of web logging, also known as blogging, I thought I would make my return by writing something clever. The Pun is intended.

Sitting in Chapel today, I listened to three older students lead chapel by not giving a sermon persay, but instead by reciting scripture, the Lord's Prayer, and several sayings and writings from famous writers on this side of the Fall of Rome. It was a great Chapel that kept the audience involved and was a really fresh change from the monotonous monotone mumblings that somehow meander their way onto the stage. The speakers were creative and innovative, something that sadly is not always a part of Chapel.

But as they were taking turns at the podium, reciting Isaiah, the Gospels, and a whole lot of other scripture that had to do with being asleep in sin and waking up in salvation, they also spouted off some poetry with darkness, light, and pop culture allusions. They recited several modern-ish writers who I enjoy, but one I did not-the dreaded Thoreau (gag me with a spoon and shoot me in the head and do not even think about saying the word "Walden"), who all had great works done that were insightful, inspiring, (in Thoreau's case, insipid) and...I'm having trouble thinking up a another postive word that starts with "ins" but anyway...really good. And also clever.

It is every writer's dream to be the next Shakespeare. Even if a writer does not say it is his or her dream, that he or she is but a modest dabbler in creative story-telling or an occasional participant of poetic pasttimes-he or she is lying to your face and you should probably stand back so you do not get your eyebrows burned off when the bolt of lightning smites him or her for committing such a sin.

We all want to be discovered. We all want to be loved. We all want to be famous. We want the movie deals. We want the red carpet papparazzi pandemonium. We want the rave reviews from L.A. Times, Washington Post, and Time magazine. We want the first five pages of our book dedicated to "Praise for (Insert your name here)". We want to see "From New York Times Best-Selling Author" written over every title of every book (of course nowadays they'll give that out to any author who has two sentences written on a page). We want to have that Oprah's Book Club sticker on our cover.

We all want the generations and generations of high-school students to come and moan and gnash their teeth because they have to read our glorified texts and reenact our epic lines. From wherever we end up in the afterlife, we want to look into the beforelife and see those same students tormenting themselves over ten-page papers that have to do with our metaphysical, existential, hyperquizzitistical (a word from my American Lit-class) ideals and how they relate to...well...anything our proud and devoted disciples (i.e. English teachers) want them to relate to.

And if you are reading this and are a writer and getting mad at me, sorry...but you know it's true. ;)

What, you don't think Shakespeare was soaking in the limelight at the Globe? Come on, Queen Elizabeth saw his plays, that's like Bush/Obama (whichever you prefer) saying to you "You really have talent." Those four words are the magic words every person in the entire world ever born and about to be born wants to hear. And no doubt about, I'm sure Shakespeare heard it a lot and probably was not the most humble man walking along the Thames.


But in order to achieve that fame. In order to be a great writer. In order to be a name high-school students dread to bear as English teachers post giant pictures of your oh-so contemplative face and 1930's England throw-back suit with crossed legs up on the wall. In order to be a name cast among the greats and listed at the top of the who's who list. In order to be known, you have to write something clever.

Sure it can come from your heart. It can be something you pull from the depths of your soul. I can be something that inspired you. It can be something that you hope inspires others. It can be something that makes you laugh, makes you cry, makes you scream. But it has to be clever. It has to be different. It has to be astonishing. Because otherwise, it's just another writing.

It's just another dream, just another story, just another whimsical notion, just another artist waiting to be called starving, just another J.K. Rowling wanna-be, just another stupid poem written by another stupid girl, just another ridiculous book written by another ridiculous boy, just another person wanting to change the world (it changes everyday-it is just a fad we haven't passed through yet), just a English student fancying himself a writer. Pa-lease!

It's just another story.

But it's only another writing to the world.

But not to God.

Wow! Now where did that come from?

This is not some writer-hating thing as you might have supposed. I am not one of those negative neds who are out to reveal the dark side of his art. Okay, maybe a little bit, but I'm trying to make a point.

God loves what we write as writers, when they come from our souls and hearts. I'm not talking about gossipy diary entries and bathroom vulgarities. I mean the real stuff, where tears stain the pages and the writings are kept hidden away for only you to see. But God does not like mysteries, that is why he is always revealing them.

When you cry out to God, when you rejoice with God, when you scream with God, even though you might not be aware you're doing it with God, He does and He loves it.

And the best part is-you do not have to put so much energy into writing "clever". He is not looking for a best-seller or the latest fad or even some radical, revolutionary essay with a well-thought thesis or bibliography. He needs no grammar, no supporting text, no footnotes, no standard, no cleverness. He only needs you and your words. To Him, your words that come from the core of your hear are far, far, far more beautiful than anything Shakespeare could conceive.

And who knows? When all is said and done, evil is gone, and the world is brand new again, he might decide to put the words you wrote the day you were baptized in the sky written in stars. Or He might display those words you wrote when you were asking Him for forgiveness and strength in sunshine along the clouds. Or He might take the words you wrote in celebration of a victory over sin and spell them out with a host bright angels brither than the stars and the sun and continually singing your name and God's over and over and over again.

So forget about the fame, the movie deals, the Oprah sticker, the New York Times Best-selling add-on (it's over-used anyway) and the tormented high-school students yet to come.

And write for God.

And then maybe the tormented high school students can come as a bonus.