In a world increasingly defined by fast information and quick sound bites, the legacy of George Orwell looms larger than ever. Recently, I came across an image of his handwritten notes—drafts for 1984—scrawled with edits, ideas, and those haunting slogans: “WAR IS PEACE. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY. IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH.” It’s a reminder that the clarity of Orwell’s words didn’t come easily; it was chiseled from layers of thought, revisions, and an unyielding pursuit of truth.
Orwell understood something fundamental: words shape thought, and thought shapes reality. His famous quote, “If people cannot write well, they cannot think well, and if they cannot think well, others will do their thinking for them,” underscores this belief. Writing, for Orwell, was not just an act of communication—it was a shield against manipulation, a tool for self-liberation. His work reminds us that clear writing is clear thinking and that the ability to articulate one’s mind is a form of power.
As a writer, I find this profoundly inspiring. In my own work, whether I’m exploring the folklore-infused landscapes of The Shadows of the Steppe or navigating the psychological struggles of my characters, Orwell’s philosophy is a guide. Every sentence is an opportunity to clarify, to refine, to dig a little deeper into the human condition. Just as Orwell dissected his words and slogans, searching for precision, I too aim to write in a way that peels back layers, inviting readers to confront their own truths.
Today, Orwell’s message resonates even more powerfully. In a world saturated with half-truths, deliberate misinformation, and superficial takes, the ability to write and think with clarity is more than a skill—it’s a form of resistance. We owe it to ourselves to think critically, to write honestly, and to guard against the encroaching fog of manipulation. As Orwell’s handwritten pages remind us, the fight for truth begins with the words we choose.