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Caveman Mind

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Paul Whybrow

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Jun 20, 2015
Location
Cornwall, UK
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I sometimes reflect on what it means to be a writer in the 21st-century. In modern society, it's a more tenuous and less respected role than it once was: going back a mere thirty years, authors were valued more.

Today, anyone can spout forth their thoughts online, in a mutating variety of formats, from the trivial and fleeting to major pronouncements that take years to create and read—I recently came across a series of self-published science-fiction novels, each of which is 250,000 words long.

It's easy to get disheartened, but when my spirits are flagging, I take heart that I'm a member of one of the oldest professions. It's long been said that prostitution is the oldest profession...which rather implies to me, that pimping is the second oldest. Whimsy aside, telling tales to cheer people up around a fire or in a darkened cave or up a tree, trying to keep safe from predators, is one of the earliest ways of making a living. Once upon a prehistoric time, we storytellers were the equivalent of television or the internet.

This realisation made me wonder what other praiseworthy jobs can trace their origins back to the early days of man. Artists, be they painters of cave walls, actors or singers would be esteemed for their entertainment skills—making their tribe recall epic hunts of prey or fierce battles with rivals. Healers would have an honoured place in prehistoric society, as well as being looked upon with suspicion. Shamans would mutate into religious leaders, at some point, trying to explain the inexplicable as being the work of a divine god: as Mark Twain said, "Religion was invented when the first conman met the first fool."

Someone in the cave would be nifty with a bone needle and sinew thread, turning tanned animal skins into garments and footwear—becoming the first fashion designer. Hunters and gatherers would keep their people alive, with one activity being seen as male and honourable, while the other was relegated to females and part of their duties—hence, sexism was originated!

Personally, I think that the first interior designer would have been welcomed with open arms. Whoever invented shelves, finding a way to attach them to the cave wall, was a precursor of civilisation, eventually spawning legions of home improvement programmes on television.

Amongst all of these jobs, the storyteller was always highly regarded, turned to when something needed explaining in an entertaining and wise way.

We're still around, and even with all of the distractions of contemporary living, we have something to say to people about the state of society, of what it means to be human.

Our words have value, so we should keep on keeping on writing them.

Of course, we don't know it all...but there are always editors around who think that they do. The thing is, which caveman became the first literary agent?! :confused:

Do you feel connected to a literary thread that passes through time?

How do you cheer yourself up when doubt swoops in?

Is there any era in which you'd like to have been an author? Perhaps as a contemporary of Jane Austen or a drinking buddy of Ernest Hemingway.

literature-cave_art-cave_drawings-prehistory-writers-authors-wmi100125_low.jpg
 
The invention of the needle and thread was one of the first massive technological breakthroughs, a crucial founding cornerstone of civilisation.

For writing, this age suits me fine. I have the PC to help me, sparing much ink and paper, and sparing my finger joints. I can look far afield and see where I might try and place it. I do not need to be single, nor negotiate with a husband or papa to receive permission to write whilst not neglecting my domestic and social duties. Social duties. Yawn. I'm fairly free to choose my own company, and that is a massive luxury. Fame is an empty room as they say, but I can hope to ship my product...a book is nothing but an object if no- one reads it... without having to disguise my identity.
 
I'm with @Katie-Ellen Hazeldine on this one. All hail modern word processors and e-mail--I remember how I struggled to get a story or poem to look good for submissions back in the 1970s, and what a waste of paper it so often was. I'll add to her reasons the fact that, while there may be more people writing now, there are also more people reading, even with television and YouTube. Millions and millions of literate people out there, all wanting a story to read--gives me the shivers.
 
This age is great for writing - the research possibilities! Think of poor Karl May writing about the wild, wild west without ever having set foot in America, and having to resort to all sorts of lame stereotypes and a helluva lot of good, old making-it-up.

I would have liked to write in the 80s, word processors around but no self-publishing and LOADS of good books written at the time. Sadly, I was too young to read. But tbh, this age is the best. Still a fair bit of sexism in the publishing industry, but probably not as bad as it used to be.
 
I sometimes reflect on what it means to be a writer in the 21st-century. In modern society, it's a more tenuous and less respected role than it once was: going back a mere thirty years, authors were valued more.

Today, anyone can spout forth their thoughts online, in a mutating variety of formats, from the trivial and fleeting to major pronouncements that take years to create and read—I recently came across a series of self-published science-fiction novels, each of which is 250,000 words long.

It's easy to get disheartened, but when my spirits are flagging, I take heart that I'm a member of one of the oldest professions. It's long been said that prostitution is the oldest profession...which rather implies to me, that pimping is the second oldest. Whimsy aside, telling tales to cheer people up around a fire or in a darkened cave or up a tree, trying to keep safe from predators, is one of the earliest ways of making a living. Once upon a prehistoric time, we storytellers were the equivalent of television or the internet.

This realisation made me wonder what other praiseworthy jobs can trace their origins back to the early days of man. Artists, be they painters of cave walls, actors or singers would be esteemed for their entertainment skills—making their tribe recall epic hunts of prey or fierce battles with rivals. Healers would have an honoured place in prehistoric society, as well as being looked upon with suspicion. Shamans would mutate into religious leaders, at some point, trying to explain the inexplicable as being the work of a divine god: as Mark Twain said, "Religion was invented when the first conman met the first fool."

Someone in the cave would be nifty with a bone needle and sinew thread, turning tanned animal skins into garments and footwear—becoming the first fashion designer. Hunters and gatherers would keep their people alive, with one activity being seen as male and honourable, while the other was relegated to females and part of their duties—hence, sexism was originated!

Personally, I think that the first interior designer would have been welcomed with open arms. Whoever invented shelves, finding a way to attach them to the cave wall, was a precursor of civilisation, eventually spawning legions of home improvement programmes on television.

Amongst all of these jobs, the storyteller was always highly regarded, turned to when something needed explaining in an entertaining and wise way.

We're still around, and even with all of the distractions of contemporary living, we have something to say to people about the state of society, of what it means to be human.

Our words have value, so we should keep on keeping on writing them.

Of course, we don't know it all...but there are always editors around who think that they do. The thing is, which caveman became the first literary agent?! :confused:

Do you feel connected to a literary thread that passes through time?

How do you cheer yourself up when doubt swoops in?

Is there any era in which you'd like to have been an author? Perhaps as a contemporary of Jane Austen or a drinking buddy of Ernest Hemingway.

literature-cave_art-cave_drawings-prehistory-writers-authors-wmi100125_low.jpg

I like being a writer now.

"Humans need story," doesn't mean that humans need all stories. You know, it's that old logic problem having to do with group inclusion. If all fire trucks are red does that mean all red trucks are fire trucks? Or, something like that.

I think doubt might be a good idea. If you pair doubt with confidence, I wonder what happens. Maybe something good. But you'd still need talent and a story.

I think the danger is that writers spend so much time and effort bolstering their confidence that they fail to doubt their writing. I think "Doubt your writing, trust your instincts" would be a good thing to remember. Maybe I'll quote myself in my signature. You know, just to prove my self-doubt.

But then, instincts might be like talent. Rare.

Do you feel connected to a literary thread that passes through time?

Dude. Seriously.

I try to avoid blatant expressions of pompassitry in public and private.

Well, unless it makes me laugh.
 
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