(I've been writing a lot lately, most of it in forums, most of it trying to make points and get things done... this is gonna get a little ranty, be prepared for that...)
Talking For Ages, Never Saying A Thing...:
Complaining about things is such a nice, fast, short-term way to get a little satisfaction when bad luck comes our way. What does it do in practice, hopefully? It gives you the chance to blow off some steam, lets people know you're upset about something, and if you're upset with someone, let's them know you're upset with them and hopefully makes them feel bad for upsetting you.
So what does this really do? Someone breaks a plate and you yell at them for breaking a plate, you still have a broken plate in the end and the breaker isn't going to suddenly introduce a new plate for you. Someone comes to your store and complains to you that you either don't have a product in stock or you don't know where said-product is, you're not suddenly going to have said-product nor would you suddenly know where it is.
Doesn't get anywhere, not especially.
The past couple days, a really critical thing has come up. If any of you have been paying attention to my runnings around the site lately, the local convention is being postponed/relocated due to a big problem. It's affecting thousands of people. And some people are understandably upset about it.
Do these people have a right to be upset? Absolutely. Are their multi-part essays about how all their funds and emotional deposits have suffered authentic and true? Most definitely.
Does seventeen pages of forum where a couple hundred people - some of which have never used their forum accounts until now - reminded the convention executives about their troubles and pains reestablish the previous venue or refund their non-refundable plane tickets? Yeah, not especially.
Writing should always have a point to it. In an essay, you're trying to promote an opinion; in fiction, you're trying to entertain, possibly even suggest a moral. Even spammy comments have points to them - not great ones, but I suppose it's fair to say that amusing oneself or annoying others can be considered a point. There's a line, probably from Forrest Gump or something, that says something like "some people can talk and talk all day without ever saying a thing." This is partly true. They're definitely saying something; it's just not especially interesting, is all.
Quick analogy: what do you consider the more satisfying end to a long and drawn-out courtship? A smile and a hug, or an embrace and a kiss with the setting sun above the shimmering sea in the background?
You can look at writing (and speaking in general) in very much the same way as setting a goal: you can aim low, or you can shoot for the moon.
Let's go back to the convention debacle. So you have all these angry people now with limited windows of time because they don't have refundable flights and have already spent the money; they've spent hundreds of dollars working on their cosplays that they'll never get to wear; they're extremely disappointed and if they reschedule the convention it's likely they won't be able to come. So what's the point of this message? Maybe they're trying to turn back time so a point in April or something with their words of hurt... more likely, though, they just want to vent and make the convention people feel bad about how they've ruined everything. They're definitely not lying, that's not the problem; they're just not trying to make an especially interesting/productive point.
I often find it amazing at just how powerful words can be. It's kind of cliche now, to say something like "the pen is mightier than the sword" and all. But it is true; words can affect people deeper than you might ever believe. Still, like all forms of power, appropriate use is what truly wins things.
Not a lot of people will be moved by hearing how you cried in the last episode of Death Note or how we've drawn a schism through a community with our changes. As powerful as those words may truly be, what point are they trying to make? In one example, the writer's affection for a mass murderer fell into the unbelievable waters of melodrama; in another, soul-felt dissertations went out to say "I don't like it."
The angry "you owe us!" mentality rarely helps. My brother feels that if you make a scene, people will acquiesce faster in order to not look bad in front of other potential customers and lose you business. In my experience as a retail clerk (the one who directly interacts with people), I can say it simply wastes time better spent fixing problems. Consider this:
"This is the last straw! I can't take it with this convention's ridiculous policies! I am never coming to this convention ever again!"
The complainer perhaps thinks he will make the people look bad and encourage others to follow suit. More likely, though, the convention executives will see this person as an opinion that no longer matters as he will not be attending the convention. That's my feeling, anyway - I could very well be wrong, but nonetheless...
I've always felt that the ideal approach to bad luck and such problems is to ask the question "how do we fix this?" rather than "whose fault is this?" To be sure, I'd love to know why there was a posted flight from Portugal to Paris that didn't exist, but demanding that information took time that I could instead spend finding a way back home in North America. As such, I tend to direct my writing towards those kinds of constructive goals whenever I can.
(And now, in bold, the point I made with all of this which probably could have arrived sooner had I planned this out more...)
When you guys go out there to write what you will, aim high. It has nothing to do with being pretentious or idealistic (in that case I still say aim high, but just know that you don't have to keep reminding us how you're aiming high). Rather, it's just a way to say "make every word count." It's far more satisfying.
(If anyone's asking, this post is what I wrote over the course of two hours the other night rather than "just complain".)
