In conversation with a friend, he mentioned to me that he felt my posts were targeted towards females and that’s the reason why he hadn’t thought about reading it himself. This may come as a surprise but I was shocked at his comment because through my writing I never felt as though I had a target market. I write from the heart but what he said rung true, so true that I didn’t want to single anyone out or discriminate in any way. His words struck a nerve with me so much so I decided to write a piece called ‘He’.
My piece called ‘She’ was so popular with my friends, family and people who I hardly know, that I wanted to write a similar piece entitling it ‘He’ so I could reach out not only to females but males too,
So here it is, my creative writing piece named ‘He’…
Entering manhood can be daunting. A man. What is this definition of a man? An adult human male. He. A human. And yet with this title he faces so much responsibility, so many standards to uphold. He struggles. And it’s okay to struggle. He comes with so many expectations and if he is defeated by one that makes him less of a man? The competition he faces , to always be better, do better. He has to have the nicest physique and the nicest attire. He. He must attract the nicest of girls. But not too many. Before he’s considered a player. But hey! To be a player might be nice. To be at the centre of attention in so many women’s eyes. To be the one everybody wants. And why can’t he have it all? He can. But at the cost of what? Something real. He plays and plays and it’s enthralling too. But that doesn’t make you a man. You’re just a youth. Youth. The title he receives because of his ways. For a split second he thinks to himself maybe I should change. That goes in a flash with the next female that catches his eye. A red-blooded male. A hunter..
The movement in my fingers began to lessen. I stopped tapping away at the keyboard as my trail of thought came to a halt. When I write I feel it from my soul so what was it about this piece that I just wasn’t feeling. I read it over and over again and just couldn’t continue. I have never walked in the shoes of a man nor have I travelled the length of his brain so how could I possibly comment. How could I possibly know. How could I relate? I couldn’t. I was stuck for words I had something which I would call writers block. I was trapped. Trapped in a world where words no longer existed and it made me mad. Why were no words flowing? Why was nothing coming to me like before? This was the case for a number of days. Erasing sentence after sentence my writing became substandard.
Then I realised my friend was right. I spoke of ‘She’ so passionately because ‘She’ is all I know. A female in my own right. How could I possibly comment on something I have no understanding of. It’s not what I was born to do. I write about what I know and I don’t know the life of a man it’s clear to see.
So instead I choose to keep writing but only of what I know and what I feel within the depths of my soul. That way you can feel the emotion travelling through my finger tips onto your screens. My piece called ‘She’ was true and sincere. A collection of emotions most females have felt. If I can relate to something you’re more likely to, which outdoes the fictional writing I attempted with my piece called ‘He’. Picking at the fragmented misconceptions I may have of a man is not what I want my writing to be.
I do not have a specific audience for my words. If you feel it you do and if you don’t, that’s to be continued…