I started writing because I was angry.
A lot of writers tell you not to do that. They say anger is a lousy motivation. They say if you write while angry, the anger will leak out onto your pages.
Bring it on, I say.
Frankly, I don’t care about a writer’s motivation. Many people are walking around with a book (or blog, or short story) inside them, yet most will never write it. If anger is the thing that finally tips the scales and gets you writing, then good for you. Get after it. In fact, do what you need to do to stay angry.
My first book, Surviving Singledom, was wholly motivated by anger. I had gone looking for resources for adult singles and found nothing. Zip. Nada. (That was fifteen years ago. Thankfully, the landscape of singledom literature has since changed.)
I was angry about the poverty of resources. It seemed wildly unfair that marrieds got so many books/courses/podcasts while singles went largely ignored. I prayed an angry prayer (ever prayed one of those? Beware!) and insisted that God raise up writers to write for the singles.
Guess what? He did.
I didn’t stay angry. As I wrote Singledom, I realised that what initially felt like anger was transforming into passion. I was passionate about the cause of single Christians. I was passionate about reaching out to them and advocating for them in our churches. I was super passionate about getting the message out there.
In the end, what started out as anger began to feel a whole lot more like love.
What started out as anger began to feel a whole lot more like love.
Anger can transform over time. We can start with frustration and channel it into something positive and proactive. We can protest. We can organise. We can gather. We can share our story and invite others into solidarity. Writing is a powerful medium for protest. It can be the most effective tool we have.
Plus, anger is not all bad. Sometimes it can energise and motivate us toward action. Anger can inspire us to protect others and fight for a worthy cause. Anger in our art can be a form of resistance, a means of giving voice to those silenced, and a mirror to society. Anger, especially when driven by love, can be a good thing!
So write that angry piece. Write that exposè. Write that tell-all memoir. Write that social commentary. Write that dark, dystopian fiction. Write that furious prayer. Write out of love, out of protest, out of that deep sense of injustice. Put the rage on the page. The world needs your voice, your message, your fire.
Who knows? Your passion might well prompt someone to take much-needed action.
Have you ever written something or created art while fuelled by anger? How did that turn out? Do you find anger and passion to be helpful motivators? Does anger ever feel more like love to you? Share your story. Let’s have a countercultural conversation.