Being a writer is a rare talent. A great many people may take up the pen, but true talent and aptitude are…
Translated from Uzbek · Original text
Being a writer is a rare talent. A great many people may take up the pen, but true talent and aptitude are found in very few. What a writer needs is, first of all, innate ability; second, deep knowledge (literary and theoretical disciplines); third, life experience; and, of course, a heart that is pure and full of pain, awake and restless, impressionable and sensitive. Without innate ability, it is impossible to become a writer as an amateur. In some, ability is strong and bright; in others, it is weak and dim. Everyone finds his place according to his ability. People of modest talent should not envy the talented; the talented should not look down on those below them. Literary and theoretical knowledge means knowing the styles of writing, the genres, the rules of finding comparisons, various literary and intellectual movements, and the like. Without it, it is impossible. If a talented and knowledgeable writer has no life experience — that is, if he has not suffered enough of fate's pains, has not been tempered in struggles, has not matured amid various contradictions, and also has not stood firm at some point with impartiality and resolve, and does not know people in their many types — discovery will not open up to him. Just as a person must do many long, sustained and regular exercises and run so that the air passages in the deepest parts of the lungs open, so a writer needs pain and suffering for his thought and analysis to shine deeply and brightly. The nourishment of the people of the word is suffering and anguish. A person who has not suffered, has not burned, has not struggled, a person who cannot defend his views and thoughts and has not lived according to his own idea, cannot become a writer; he is a day laborer using writing as a way to earn a living; only the one who accepts writing as life itself wins honor and acceptance.
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