People talk about the "power of the written word," but there’s also a danger to the written word.
And there’s a weird sort of thing that happens when you practice writing every day: you get a competency for writing. You can wield it in very strong ways. Just by the mere ability to organize your thoughts into coherent paragraphs makes even an email or letter more powerful than an average email or letter.
My English teacher told me that phrases such as "I think" or "I believe" weaken your writing.
Lately, I’ve found myself taking comfort in that. I start peppering my emails and studio letters with I thinks and Maybes and Perhapses, in a way to consciously weaken my writing.
In nonfiction writing, strong writing makes opinion sound almost like fact. That’s its strength. But for me, I’ve never been comfortable in that role. I believe what I believe. I believe it passionately, and when I write it coherently, it’s persuasive.
Unfortunately, sometimes. I mean, sometimes I sound like I know what I’m talking about, even when I’m just talking, or thinking, or spouting an opinion.
I’m not always comfortable with that, you know? I’m willing to hear the other side. In fact, being a Libra, I’m more often going to take the opposite side as a way to flesh out the whole picture.
Now give me fiction, and I’m more than willing to write an argument both persuasive and subtle, with every technique I’ve got in my arsenal.