At first glance, it seems that people who talk a lot would have plenty to write about if they gathered up even half of what they had to say. In English conversation, it is certainly true that talkative people have a stronger desire to say the same things in English, so they tend to learn and practice various expressions quickly. English is not something that becomes yours simply because you study it, and it is not a matter of memorizing and thinking with the head. One should approach it as something to be embodied steadily, with less greed and less haste. Still, there is reason to think this way. In English conversation practice, a partner is placed before you, and you are given new expressions or words for a new topic and made to speak. In my case, I do not talk with others about such topics even in Korean, so I often feel that the quality of practice is different from that of people who only need to change Korean into English. Conveying what one needs to say by assembling words is the same whether in English or Korean.
But when it comes to writing, it is another matter. For me, the act of writing belongs to an extremely private domain. I dislike even showing others the sight of myself writing, and I do not show what I have written to people I know. Publishing online is a slightly different dimension. By then, it has already been refined. If conversation with others does not proceed properly because it cannot become a private dimension, writing can be said to proceed “normally” because it is something that can be done within a private dimension. On the other hand, a person who talks a lot does not talk if there is no one to talk to. Come to think of it, people who talk to themselves a lot do not necessarily talk that much with others, and talkative people do not seem to keep talking to themselves without rest even when they are alone.
Then is writing on the same level as talking to oneself? That does not quite seem right either. I do not like talking to myself. Sometimes I fall into the habit of muttering to myself, but once I notice it, I soon close my mouth and consciously try not to do it. Because others might hear? That may be one reason. But as I feel it, once I develop the habit of talking to myself, the desire to write soon decreases. When I do not feel that I must write, but rather that I want to write, things to write about appear before my eyes on their own. If I think I have to write, I absolutely cannot write. If even an amateur is like this, then those whose profession is writing must often have to write even without wanting to, and I feel I can sense at least a little of that pain. But if talking to myself makes me feel less desire to write, then it may be possible to think of it as a kind of balloon effect.
There is a desire to express something. People who talk a lot sufficiently release that desire through conversation, while people like me, who do not converse much, write so that the desire does not pile up. But if I talk to myself, then, as when one sticks clear tape onto a balloon and pierces it with a needle, it does not burst loudly, but the desire leaks out little by little. If the desire to write accumulates for hours and creates pressure, then as soon as I sit down in front of the computer keyboard, I have no choice but to write something. But if the desire remains while only the pressure is lowered, so that it no longer advances to the stage where writing bursts out on its own, it becomes maddening. If I did not know the cause, I might have simply thought that I had no talent for writing, that only my heart was ahead of me and the writing would not come. Fortunately, every time that happened, I noticed that I had been muttering to myself now and then. Now, talking to myself has settled in my mind as something as easy to pick up as drinking or smoking, but something that must be abandoned.
So the conclusion is that I am lucky. I like writing, and whenever I want to write, I can write. Is that not luck? In fact, there must be people who talk a lot, have excellent social skills, lead conversations well, and also write astonishingly good pieces in great numbers. They are simply not my area of interest. I only know that, given my personality and current state, if I had liked conversation, I probably would not have been able to write. So I am grateful to my personality simply because it made me come to like writing. It is not, in fact, a good personality for social life in Korea. I must have suffered various losses because of it. If I could undo all those disadvantages and think, since I do not make a living from writing now anyway, perhaps I should give back the pleasure of writing, I still would not. To unfold into words a four-dimensional image that remains in the mind as a set of events that happened within a fixed span of time is, I think, like making a film for someone who has the ability to make films. Such a person would try to do it no matter what price they had to pay. So in my case, it is only right to think that I can bear that level of disadvantage and still do what I want because this is not an ordinary field of art, but simply the act of writing. A free hobby enjoyed while living an ordinary working life.
Korean original: 글쓰는 취미