This is why I write

October 29, 2014 Writing  No comments

Being an artist has something to do with being brave enough to move toward what makes you come alive.
Emily P Freeman

A love of writing stems from a love of reading. I love fiction. I love the tension and the angst. I love the boldness of feeling characters have. I love getting to experience a whole world separate from the reality I live in. I love how fiction makes sense of things and puts seemingly random events into order and context.

In the moment of writing, I absolutely love it. I love thinking about what’s happening and what’s going to happen next. I love planning out plots. I love laying awake at night trying to puzzle together the story. I love words and what happens when you string them together to paint a scene. I love the passion I have for my characters and stories. I love how I can sit at my desk and lose myself in my story for hours and not even know it. I love taking in the world around me and filtering it through my own personal experiences and brain and perspective and seeing what comes out. When I’m writing, there’s nothing else I’d rather be doing.

I write for myself. I write because as much as I want others to read and enter the world I’ve create, I want to be in that world – creating it, exploring it, getting to know it. Even if, at the end of the day, no one else ever does.

I write because I love to write, for the love of writing itself.

I write because I love stories and fiction.

I write because I find myself more at home in fiction than in reality. (Whatever that might say about my psyche.)

I write because it helps me make sense of the world and how I feel about things.

I write to process all the things I intake from around me. All the things I see, have seen, experience, have experienced, hear, have heard.

I write to create.

I write because I need to create.

I write because these characters and stories in my head won’t shut up, and if I don’t get them out onto paper I will go crazy and end up in the psych ward.

I write to give others hope.

I write to give myself hope.

I write because humans fascinate me. Why do we do all the things that we do?

I write because sometimes things just need to be said and heard, for no other reason than that they deserve to be said and heard.

I write to explore new worlds.

I write to explore the darkest parts of us.

I write to understand myself. And maybe, to help others understand me as well.

I write so that others know they’re not alone.

I write so that I know I’m not alone.

I write because I hope this is my way of shining a little bit of light into the world.

I write to confront my own demons.

I write to try to understand all the evil, bad things in this world. As Stephen King has said – “We make up horrors to help us cope with the real ones.

I write to create order in a world where there is none.

I write because, as Kathryn Harrison so aptly puts it, “In that moment, I am most completely myself, and yet totally relieved of myself.”

I write because maybe it’ll help me one day get that elusive it we’re all searching for.

I write because I have to believe that good things come out of bad places, that you can always find beauty in the brokenness.

I write because as the late, great Robin Williams in Dead Poets Society has said, “No matter what anybody tells you, words and ideas can change the world.”



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