Why do I write? Why do I feel the all encompassing, irresistible urge to put pen to paper, or finger to keystroke? It doesn't do anything for me. It doesn't further my professional career, give any financial or intellectual security. What does this habit do for me? Why must I keep going, page after page, without any beginning or end in sight?
I write because it give my life purpose. I write for others just as much as I write for myself. I write because my dreams do not allow me to sleep, sometimes. I write because I don't know how not to. I write because characters and scenes will pop into my head, usually while on completed unrelated mental topics. I write for all the people that don't know how to, but would like to try. I write to remember. I write to forget. Sometimes, I write to enhance personal experiences in my daily life.
I write because the feeling of procrastinating is so much better than the feeling of nothing. I write because I like to go back late at night and read my own work for entertainment. I write because there is too much stuff in my head. I do write to hopefully be published someday, but that is not the focus. I write just to see if I can. I write because some books should not have ended that particular way, with that person in power.
I write because the world inspires me to. I write to feel like I am getting things done in the course of my day. I write to give birth to new ideas, as well as destroy them. I write to give life and meaning to completely fake, completely fabricated people. I write because my high school English teacher told me to one day, and I haven't stopped since. I write because the feeling of letting someone read your work is indescribably remarkable. I write because I enjoy the soft sound of keys striking in pure silence.
I write because it is as much of a painful, excruciating process as a soothing one. I write because my feelings make no sense unless they are on paper, sometimes. I write because I failed as an artist, but still feel unbelievably creative. I write to make my time feel worthwhile. I write to allow characters to gain a mind of their own and start to tell the story for me, with me as a mere commentator to their actions. I write because I didn’t go to college for it, which is one of my biggest regrets in recent memory.
I write because it makes me feel smarter. I write to leave something behind when I die. I write to have something my future children can read and be proud of their dad. I write to huddle at my computer late at night sometimes while scrolling through the pages of my work. I write to have little chunks and bits of me and those I am closest to scattered throughout my stories, just to see how they will interact with one another in other, fantastic settings. I write to submit it to writing forums in front of a sea of strangers, just to see the reactions. I write to hear negative comments
I write to grow. To learn something new every day. To teach someone something new about the world. To be able to use a word I learned in the dictionary. To hone my skill. To communicate with others. To cheer someone up, or bring them down when they need it. To express love to my wife. To research something introduced in one of my stories. To recharge my batteries. Because I love a good adventure, even if it is in the comfort of my own home. To have fun, and laugh a little along the way. To let off steam. To alleviate stress. To get stressed when I need to be. To fire myself up. To make me feel good. To get my fingers tired from so much typing that I can’t possibly keep going, then go some more.
Why do you do what you do? Can you fill an entire page of why?
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