Something Out of Nothing

Writing makes something out of nothing.

It brings out something in each of us, and it can powerfully move minds. It can anger, amuse, belittle, build up. It’s an art form created with ink, graphite, or pixels, formed in the late nights, zero dark 30 mornings and the class before. Writing can be a task to relish, or a chore to abhor. Creativity, opinion, truth, love, fantastic worlds, identity, freedom and purpose can all flow from writing – from a stone tablet to a quill to a Macbook.

Writing is so epic because you’re its only real influence.

I can take this blog, which originally stemmed from a horrible case of writer’s block, and form something from it. Something new. Something mine. Something to be shared, considered and perhaps criticized. This article began its life as a blank google doc.

There are many like it, but this one is mine.

I can shape it however I desire. Sure, my opinion may conflict with everything that society has to say. It may not be what itching ears want to hear. In some countries around the world, it may even be illegal. But that reveals the beauty of it: writing gives thought a voice.

I will probably never meet many of you reading this. The Rider has readers from all over the country and even some global readers from Great Britain, Canada or Australia happen to stumble upon our site from their computers. The odds of me being able to speak in front of all of you at the same time are astronomical.

But because I can pen my thoughts, this voice you would have never heard otherwise now stares up at you from your screen, begging to be heard.

I can share thoughts, truth, stories, lessons, and opinions. I can build you up, or belittle you to rock bottom – I won’t, don’t worry. My writing looks like a stew – beef, in case you were wondering – a bubbly, boiling mixture of all of the experiences, influences and people that have impacted me. I can conform, or I can be real.

And with that realness comes a distinct responsibility. Because of our Constitution, every one of us has the ability the right to write, to speak, to be heard and listened to.

We have the right to write.

But that means, as with most rights, a responsibility comes with it. What I write, what anyone writes, has power. Perhaps my writing changes, if ever so slightly, the way you think. Perhaps you’ll laugh. Maybe, instead of just changing your opinion or the way you feel, my writing will lead to real action. Who knows, one of my articles may just kickstart a revolution or something someday, and I would be responsible, ever so slightly, for the ideas that sparked that revolt, that laugh, that change of heart.

Herein lies the glaring truth: if I am to be responsible for what my writing creates, then it falls on me to use my writing for good.

So, basically, I’m telling you that writers are sort of superheroes. We are artists, dreamers, and adventurers. Given a year to write a story, most of us would start the night before – or maybe it’s just me. We wield power, but, unlike Superman or Spiderman, we are more than willing to share it because it’s not really ours to limit or hold. So, today, I am extending the baton.

You, oh-so-cool Rider reader, yeah, you, go and write. Create something completely yours. Own your stew of experiences and life lessons. But know, dear Rider-reader-turned-writer, that with great power comes great responsibility. Never take free speech for granted. Never underestimate the impact that a story, a joke, an eternal truth or an encouraging word can have on someone. And, never, ever, EVER misuse a comma.

Just kidding.