The idea of want crops up so often as a basic driver of stories – in defining a character’s motivations or yearnings, or in getting down to basics in a memoir.
I often suggest that wants have an inner dimension, which can be broad and abstract (love; a place to call home), but that they work best if also grounded in tangible and specific objects of desire that are located externally in our material world (two old shirts; a little ranch, or maybe a trip to Mexico).
I also relate the idea of want to the idea of intention. When working with writers, I often start by asking them what they intend their writing to do, and direct them to discussion of the subject in Susan Bell’s The Artful Edit (a book I recommend to all writers). Among other things, she asks simply: ‘Why do you want this piece of writing to live? Your intention lies in how you answer.’
We can take the ideas of want and intention further, into the idea of manifesting. I am thinking of the creative desires expressed in Octavia Butler’s notebooks. So bold, so powerful – and eventually so prophetic!
I’m also thinking about Bernardine Evaristo’s memoir Manifesto. Which I’ve yet to read – only just out. The idea of the manifesto is such a good way of making your wants real in the world. I’ve posted a writing experiment about this in the past: Write! A Manifesto.
The text that excites me most when I think of want in writing is Zoe Leonard’s I Want A President. Leonard was inspired to write this poem when her friend the poet Eileen Myles ran for president of the US in 1992, as discussed in this video. I always think of its title as I Want A Dyke For President, because: yes, so do I, and ALL of the rest of that fierce and brilliant poem too.
Oh! It’s so good and so powerful. The power of the simple repetitions, the power of the simple syntax of Subject-Verb-Object, the stark imagery of nouns, the simple expression of want. Also, the clever variations – the patterning, the emphasis created, the reinscribing effect of the repeated want. And of course its content – its transgressions and taboos and what it reclaims, its urge for social justice. And its eternal truths: those last lines speak to us even more strongly thirty years later. Above you can see it displayed as a huge poster on the Highline in New York during the 2016 presidential election season (though a lot of good it did then! Which does beg questions … Another time).
Perhaps more than anything the power of this piece lies in its VOICE: strong, direct, uncluttered. Back in the olden days, at a Fire workshop with Words Away, we had great fun with theatre maker Kate Beales running us through drama studio exercises in which we acted this poem out in different styles and voices. Modestly, sarcastically, quizzically – defiantly, fists in the air, we all cried out in unison: I WANT A DYKE FOR PRESIDENT! What a rush that gave us – what a charge.
So: as a writing experiment, let’s charge ourselves up by writing about our own wants.
* First read I Want A President to yourself. Here is another version. You might want to print it out – such a fantastic document to hold in your hands.
* Then: read it aloud to yourself. Try it in a few different styles – timidly, boldly, with curiosity, with rage, with love.
* After reading it, watch performers who’ve interpreted it too, e.g., Mykki Blanco, activists in Washington, Zoe Leonard herself.
* Now, right away, write for ten minutes using the prompt I want. Maybe write about who YOU want for President (or Prime Minister). Or write more freely, seeing what arises for your wants. When you stop writing about one want, carry on writing about a new one. Harness those desires, and let your voice ring.
* You could adapt this for other wants. What you want your book to do. What you want as a writer, professional wants, personal wants.
* You can use I want within a programme of fieldwork for a larger work too, also exploring, e.g., what characters Can and Can’t do, what they Must and Mustn’t do, and what they Remember. Writing in their first-person voices, or adapting for third-person He/She/They. Or even try second-person you: you want. How might your characters’ wants conflict with each other to create drama? It works for fiction, and it works for real-life stories too.
* And try reading your pieces to friends/family/colleagues – it is a good one to share for its directed energy, even if it’s just as a voice note in a message. Get them to join in too! This is a fun and powerful form for writing.
Terrific! I’m just about to sit down with my WANTS. Thank you.
(Oh and by the way, I voted for Eileen Myles that year.)
Really great insights Andrew and some fine recommendations
Thank you Andrew,
I remember that Fire workshop.
I remember the power of that poem. Will be even more so in a post-Covid world.
I want in-person masterclasses/workshops again.
I want Kellie’s vegan brownies with tea.
I want to meet and chat with fellow writers in workshop breaks.
I want to see your smile.
Me too!
And: all of the above.
When?! One day, I hope. Can’t live under a rock forever.