Death of a Singular They

"Will this matter?"

This is the quintessential question which all authors of various stripes inevitably ask themselves.

Put differently, it is only natural for a writer to wonder where they will fall in the greater scope of literature, and whether writing as a craft is not a futile act of shouting into an endless void.

The late Tyler Clark was no different.

They pondered these questions as much as the next writer. As one reads the collected works of this deceased author, one cannot deny the ever-present subtext interwoven in everything they wrote: a search, not just for meaning, but for significance.

At the risk of spoiling the plot, no, Tyler never found any answers that satisfied them. But it is clear enough, studying their body of work, that the search meant more to them than any answer. Their poetry begs questions, dwelling upon mystery and the unknown. Their horror stories take protagonists who believe to have all the answers, then, through the crucible of story, map the unraveling of those who are too sure of themselves. But sometimes the characters of their stories discover greater freedom or enlightenment upon shattering, as though the only suitable response to the existential fear of death is surrender. Indeed, one may conclude from their body of works that they preferred a life without answers, and, paradoxically, chose to toil toward meaning all the same.

Sisyphus was content to push their boulder up that hill.

*

If there is ever a silver lining to the horror and mystery of Tyler's works, it is that there is beauty to be found in the struggle toward meaning. In their short story, "If a Tree Falls", the protagonist disappears from the memory of everyone who ever knew them until they become Nobody: a reject, someone who has slipped, body and soul, through the cracks of society and disappeared. But once complete, this destructive curse grants the character insight. Nobody looks back at the rest of us with pity.

These themes mirror Tyler's own life. As a neurodivergent nonbinary bisexual, it would seem that nearly all social constructs and conventions grated on them. Nothing made one-size seemed to fit. Instead, they discovered identity in defiance of binaries, beauty on the fringe, and community among the outcasts.

*

The tragedy of any author of posthumous fame is that they will never know how much their work did matter.

Would you put yourself through the trouble of wrestling your muses and toil away at the keyboard in every stolen hour possible if you knew you would never live to see anyone appreciate your work?

Every author can only answer for themself.

Is influence the test of greatness? Is fame? Copies sold? Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps. But authors who treat relevance, readership, or critical acclaim as validation for a life of writing set themselves up for disappointment. External validation can change with the wind. A writer's truest raison d'être must come from a place deep within.

While still a young college student, Tyler Clark wrote a manifesto, of sorts, outlining their goals and motivations. "I must write," they said. "This will remain true regardless of whatever course my career may take."

While it is always a tragedy to see a writer or artist meet their end before their work is discovered, in the case of Tyler C. Clark, it is this critic's opinion that we may mourn a little less knowing that Tyler discovered their reason to write early in life and never abandoned it. They hoped for a career as a writer, of course, but with every rejection, they wrote all the more.

The world may not have discovered Tyler's works until after their death, but in life, their writer spirit never broke.