A Writer's Identity
I'm involved in many electronic discussions about writing, writers, and the universe of living writers. Most of them are based on "How do I write better?" and, more often than not, "How do I sell more books?"
Many writers who aren't men or white, particularly young writers, feel palatable pressure to "represent" other people like them, to "speak" for their race, class, gender, etc. This becomes sort of a feedback loop about "how do I improve my work?" and, in particular, "how do I sell more books?"
It seems really limiting, though. If you put an adjective before the word "writer," then your expectations from the writer and your experience change.
For instance, suppose you had no idea who Hemmingway was, and you were given "The Old Man and the Sea" to read, and all you were told about the author was that he was Latinx or Afro-Carribian. How much would that change your expectations of the book and, more importantly, your experience reading it?
We tend to teach literature based on the writer's identity. This has been going on for a while now. Instead of a class on modern writers or romantic writers, we tend to offer courses on women writers or black writers, emphasizing the writer's identity and their impact on other people with that identity rather than on what they're writing or how.
One of the main reasons we try to use nontraditional casting with actors is to break the cycle of identity casting. Some people get really annoyed by it. "Why is the little mermaid black?" People will ask. "It's a Mermaid, dude." This is the obvious answer, but for a lot of people, that doesn't satisfy them. It doesn't satisfy because we've become so used to identity casting that there's resistance to breaking out of those constraints.
I try to write from my perspective and my experience without being constrained by the idea of representing my cultural identity. For one thing, if I have to write and represent white guys over forty, I don't think I can do it very well. The other people who share that identity will likely feel betrayed by me; many of them already do.
We're social creatures. There is naturally a lot of pressure for people with similar identifying characteristics to "stick together" for the good of the group. That can be a strong motivator for a writer. "I'm working for the benefit of my people!" is something you hear pretty often. My problem with that, at least for how I write or want to write, is that once you start writing for the adjective before the word "writer," your truth changes. There's truth, and there's truth from a perspective, which isn't the same thing.
There's comfort in finding your tribe. I see a lot of groups that identify as young black writers, women writers, mom writers, gay writers, neurodivergent writers, and the like. I envy the camaraderie they find in each other, and I respect that it probably makes it easier for them to sell their books; it's not for me though.
People think they know what they're getting if I say I'm a straight, white, male writer, over forty, and maybe that makes the process easier for them, but I'd rather they not know what I'm going to say before I say it.
