Years ago, in my first writing group, I met a writer who told me he was hunting his voice. I instantly pictured him stalking through a jungle of stories and characters, holding a rifle and wearing fatigues. When I told him this, he laughed and said that he meant “hunting” in a different way. He was talking about hunting like a phone system picks up calls and directs them to the correct lines. If the first line is busy, the hunting feature automatically delivers the call to a second line, and then possibly a third and so on, until someone answers that call.
According to various sources on the internet, INFJs love to practice creative writing more than anything else. Now, I know that information found online can go either way on the spectrum of accuracy, but I’m inclined to agree with this statement. I’m an INFJ myself, and I actually have a couple other INFJ writer friends, so I bring some personal experience to this. But that’s not the only reason I feel this way. I also own a blog. And as the author of that blog I can see the search terms people use when they stumble across my posts. Every single day I get some form of “INFJ” paired with “trouble writing” or “difficulty writing” or “have a hard time writing.”
You write a little. You go back and read it. You write a little more. You start from the beginning, re-read the first little bit and then read the little bit you just added. You write a tiny bit more onto that but now…you’re starting to feel weird. You’re starting to feel anxious. Sure, you sort of liked what you read, but it could just be improved in so many places. The language is too flowery, or too simple. The structure is too convoluted and it’s obvious any other reader is going to be confused. Maybe you should go back and fix it…here…and here…and right there.
Writers are artists. Most of us operate from a very different core system of values than the mainstream population. We would love to be paid for our work, sure, but money is not the primary motivating force for us. And while we also enjoy recognition, status alone is not enough to really get our engines going.
Even in just the last one hundred years, the pace of modern society has zoomed forward astronomically. We jump online and talk to friends instantly, or we jump on a plane and travel a distance in one day that would have taken months using an old-fashioned horse and carriage. We get information where and when and how we need it, and it seems like every kind of commodity we could ever want or need is available at our mega-superstores.