No More Groundbreaking Stories. Please.
Dear writers,
Please stop writing groundbreaking stories.
I understand the writer’s impulse to distinguish yourself, to make a mark, and to move people through the power of your unique craft as a story-teller.
I understand that your intentions are honourable (they always are), and that through your words, through prose and verse, you seek to present narratives that are groundbreaking; that, if they are beautifully, imaginatively, and empathetically written enough, can be game-changing and revolutionary.
The problem, however, is precisely this prevailing, damaging focus on ‘groundbreaking’. It is problematic when every writer is in identical pursuit of breaking new ground. You risk inevitably traveling along identical (broken) paths.
Breaking ground requires looking down. As such, you writers seem to be constantly looking down to see what new incisions you can make in our already well-scarred and marked cultural landscapes, as you lay the foundations for your distinctive world building. But in so doing, you risk further exploiting an injured, historically vulnerable ground. It is problematic because all your necks and backs are in collective bent shape surveying that ground for undiscovered territory. In such a position, you invariably dig from the same perspective, and end up with devastatingly-too-familiar outcomes. It fills your lungs, and clouds your vision, with the dirt and dust of exhaustive, repetitive labour from digging the same holes, but in different places. It denies you, and us, alternative ways of seeing and engaging with the world.
But, what if you shift (or lift) your gaze? What if, instead of always looking down, you looked up? What of writing stories that are sky-opening, universe-expanding? That elevates, that compels you to raise your heads? That asks us to breathe in a higher, different air?
Art — film, television, literature — does not always have to break ground.
It does not have to break. It does not have to break us.
Art, in its most ideal pursuit, should be creative, not destructive. It can reflect, refract, reimagine, or even distort. But it should never destroy.
Yet, if look down you must, then I ask that you consider letting go of the notion that writing earthshattering and groundbreaking stories is the most cogent means toward having an impact as a writer. Aim for loftier and more meaningful ambitions, for the sometimes more difficult task of simply doing nothing. What if you left the earth un-shattered, our fragile ground un-broken?
Breaking things is easy. What if you sought to mend them instead? What if you sutured the deep cuts made by previous groundbreakers? What if you let old wounds heal before you pick up the shovel again?
I think that would be truly game-changing and revolutionary.