is your writing even worth reading?

That’s what you want to know, isn’t it?

You don’t have writer’s block, procrastination, or imposter syndrome. You aren’t out of ideas. You haven’t pissed off the wrong muse. 

You’re scared to be deemed unworthy by readers.

This seems to be a curse on all who hold a pen (or keyboard).

If writer should have ever been free of this fear, it’s Terry Pratchett. Terry was an English fantasy satire author who sold 100 million books in his career. 50 of his titles were bestsellers. But if his late work is any indication, even he grappled with his own worth.

Pratchett was diagnosed was Alzheimer’s in 2007. By 2009, his assistant was typing his books. One of those books is titled Unseen Academicals.

The new character of this book is named Mr. Nutt. He is a goblin (we think). He works at the wizard university. He is obsessed with worth.

“Am I worthy?” Mr. Nutt asks, over and over.

The climax to Mr. Nutt’s story is a teeth-tingling bite into a 95% chocolate bar. Bitter on the tongue. Barely any sugar.

The bitterness mostly comes from Pratchett’s unflinching stare at worth’s opposite: 

Worthlessness.

I won’t spoil the climax here. However, after reading it, I am forced to give you my own bitter bites.

Here, a bitter bite

It is possible for a person to be worthless.

Worthless, meaning absent of worth. Worthless, meaning the world is worse off because you are in it. 

Here, a bitter bite:

Whether a person is worthy or worthless is objective. It is not up for debate. If such a scale could be built, worth could be measured.

Worth is not determined independently. It is determined communally.

That means if you say you are worthy, but the vast majority decide you are not, they are correct. 

Here, a bitter bite. 

Social media — at least in part — is that scale of worth. The judgement of all mankind, hot against every word you write. Or cold and indifferent.

Yes, it is fickle. Yes, it is abused and abusive. Yes, a like, share, or comment can mean something other than “you are worthy.” Yes, people can find you worthy without clicking a button to indicate such.*

But for better or worse, our platforms (imperfectly) measure worth. 

Here, a bitter bite. 

Given this, you can write something worthless.

“But everything is worthy to someone!” 

Not always.

Why are we talking about “life” instead of writing?

What difference is there, really? Your writing cannot be any greater than some total of your experiences, your reading, and your thought. 

Is there any “sweet” to this bitterness?

It’s unclear.

Presumably, I should finish this off with advice. For that, you can read any of the other posts from this publication, written when my mood was less bleak. 

Presumably, you want a guarantee for worthy writing.

I’m not sure there is one. I’m not even sure if this post is worthy. You’ll have to be the judge of that.

For today, the closest thing to “advice” I can give you is this: 

When you write, seek truth. Then try to say it in a way that people haven’t heard it before.

Then try again tomorrow.

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*To the lurkers. If you like someone’s work, click a button that tells them so. It’s the literal least you can do.