writing is content is art?

the definition of "writer" keeps changing, as a thing i can't keep romanticizing

When I was a kid, I thought all writing was done from a heart-centered place. I thought it was about the power of unfettered imagination, the softness of recalling things of your past, the somberness of crafting ideas of the future. Back then, there were novels, and there were textbooks. Even non-fiction instilled a sense of awe, as I believed all writing was meant to be art. Insofar as a journalist went to a foreign country or was reporting on lesser-seen things in life, there was a specific elegance to what they were doing.

You could write a novel, or write a textbook, but the word “writer” would not evoke “one who writes informative things in a textbook.”

The Internet was just blossoming into a place for “bloggers” in the aughts — it was not something I foresaw altering how I would one day continue writing. I just did writing because it felt basic to me, like breathing. What strategy? What structure? I had this idea that if I just kept improving my work — that was about my heart — throughout the span of my life, I’d find resonance in myself forever and it’d never be complicated further. Man, those were different times.

LiveJournal, Xanga, MySpace — I didn’t know of the power of these places to offer platforms, to have actual audiences I’d ever interact with. I was using Microsoft Word in 2004, typing my misery away and never thinking about one day monetizing my work. It felt like play, like interesting experiments.

Thus, when it came time in 2012 to pick a college major, I decided journalism was the best place to get formal training on the thing I wanted to continue doing — writing as art. Writer as an artist.

Fast forward almost 20 years. I’ve noticed that when nowadays when people talk about the word writer, that it’s a lot more complicated of an “identity” than it used to be. Is it purely “artistic?”

Is writing about your mind or your heart? A part of me is stuck in the past, because man, I don’t know anymore. What images does the word “writer” evoke for me? The internal object is clearly outdated.

If I spend all my time writing B2B SaaS copy now, am I a proper “writer?” These days, maybe analysis might be “informative art,” but at what point was productivity theory, theorizing on AI, lamenting shallow reflections on the one English book you’d read, really developed as a valid form of writing?

There’s not really a clean differentiation between different types. “Writer” could be someone who’s making either:

Content: Informative, helpful, educational, explainers?

Art: Beautiful, fascinating, inspiring, essays?

Both can be: Thought provoking — analysis..?

Novelists are not the same as Substack posters.

Journalists are not the same as poets.

This is CONFUSING.

As I’ve toed different lines and met people from all sorts of backgrounds that put pen to paper in different ways, I’ve realized I myself am no longer clear on how I should compare myself to anyone’s voice because everything is so different.

I used to think “writers” were just showing people their personalities, and that it was a popularity contest if more people read your work. Gee, that’s such an inaccurate way of thinking.

“Writer” is such an open-ended label that I now believe specificity will actually help me set myself free from my own confusion.

In the year of our Lord 2023, I’ve been confused and crucifying myself on the cross of ambiguity by spinning my wheels about others’ definitions of my work. My work is sometimes “content,” especially if I spend a while writing Twitter threads explaining my thoughts about masculinity and femininity. My work is also sometimes “art,” like if I express my feelings about my painful or interesting life experiences, leaning mostly on narrative.

In both cases, audiences matter. When I was a kid, I thought any attention would be good enough for me.

But the world is broad. The time-space continuum is even bigger.

My primary audience was once myself. Sometimes I wanted to be logical and thoughtful, and sometimes I wanted to be angsty and poignant.

I do think there’s a differentiation with these functions. But what is it?

What do you think?