I used to have a very good habit of writing about 1000 words a morning to get the blood flowing. As summer came on full swing, I've sort of dropped the habit.
But when it comes to being a writer and writing, there's really nothing more important than spending every day writing a bunch of crap that nobody is going to really care about or read. I kept a lot of it in a Word Document, but the motivation to do it has really fallen off. I think part of it is that writing for me requires an audience, or at least a conception of an audience.
The Universal Audience is crucial to my inspiration for the production of rhetoric. I have to imagine who I am talking to, and I have to imagine it using restrictions. I think limits, restrictions, and rules are vital to producing good rhetoric. Even if you are ready to post a nasty comment about how unimportant grammar is, I'd respond by saying even if you are against conventional grammar you are using grammar, per se, to structure your thoughts. It's in opposition or negation to what is appropriate grammar. Marcuse writes about this but what's on my mind is Burke's idea of "gashouse piety," the idea that anti-pious performance has it's own liturgical structure, and that structure is based on liturgy.
The Universal Audience, I wrote earlier today, is either the most misunderstood concept in argumentation and rhetoric or the front-runner for that award. It's poorly named, named by a legal scholar/philosopher who was taught in the early 20th century both things. This might not connect with any American reading it in translation in the mid-20th century or the early 21st. The Universal Audience simply means that when you imagine the audience you are writing for or to, you should be careful you aren't imagining an audience that is receptive - that is, they think like you do - at the expense of ethics, meaning that you give them some sort of definition, agency, and capability that is grounded in the rhetorical practices and argumentative norms of the time.
Said a different way, the Universal audience means that you automatically conceive of an audience of all people who will read what you write or listen to your podcast and get what you mean. This is the part that is done without a lot of thought. Now, the next step that is required according to Universal Audience theory is: Did you imagine them fairly? Respectfully? Did you leave out anyone because you don't like them?
Leaving out some people from the universal audience because they are incapable of participating in your argument is ok. What's not ok is leaving out those who are able to participate but you dismiss them because you believe them to be stupid or unworthy of the message. This is creating a vanguard audience, and it's something that discounts the value of your rhetoric if you do it. The reason why is that many who deserve access by right won't get it, and your goal of reaching the audience to alter an attitude or feeling will be lost.
I've been thinking about the universal audience while watching the Tour de France in the mornings here in New York. It's a good way to start the day - the time difference is decidedly in my favor for a bike race that starts around 1PM in France. I've been thinking about the different audiences watching the race: Other cyclists, sponsors, bike companies, health companies, people with national pride, and of course the participants themselves watching themselves and others in the coverage in the evenings.
I've been thinking about the creation of the argument of wanting to do this - what are the reasons someone would want to participate in this race? What justifications would they offer? What would be the explanation to a fan versus a family member or friend?
What is certain is that they don't just get up and go. They cycle daily and they cycle in places where they are not going to be purposely observed. They cycle for themselves to get the arguments right, to get it all right for the public cycling.
This idea has made me return to the less populated streets and hills of the daily writing practice. In the Tour, cyclists and commentators always talk about "legs." The usage has this form: "He will try to win the points today if he has the legs for it." This is obviously a biological and material claim but I think it's really more metaphorical. "Legs" stands in for the ability to push one's body past the limits it feels comfortable. What could be the metaphor for this in rhetorical daily cycling?
Suggestions welcome, but I like the materiality and archaic nature of having the "ink" or the "voice" for it. I think voice is not a preferred term here because it has a deep practical and theoretical well of conversation in composition studies. But perhaps having the ink is a good one. I was recently at a bar writing notes in Manhattan and my pen was clearly dying. I had only brought one. What do do? The solution was to be economical. I had to force "results" with little in the tank, quite literally, and get the ideas to a complete form - a finish line - without a lot left in my tank. I think this works well.