Why I Write
As requested by domynoe, my responses to the Why I Write meme…
I write because I can’t imagine not writing.
I go through my day-to-day life, and I make up stories about the people and the things around me. I create my own little versions about why that woman is shopping in that store, why that child is sulking, why that man is screaming into his cell-phone. I also find bits and pieces of information, and I think – Wow, this is too cool not to share. Sometimes those data surface from my formal research work as a librarian, sometimes they’re the result of overheard conversations, sometimes they’re the product of a trip to a museum, reading a book, watching a television show….
All of these bits and pieces just need to be glued together. It’s sort of like piecing a quilt out of fabric scraps. I enjoy manipulating the parts into a new whole. I enjoy creating new shapes, new patterns, new ways of seeing the world around me.
When I don’t write, I get cranky. I become anxious. I feel like I haven’t exercised, or like I’ve eaten too much sugar without enough protein. Like something is missing.
There’ve been plenty of times when I’ve vowed I’m never going to write again. I’ve said that I don’t have the time, or the fortitude, that I can hit my own head against the wall thank you very much; I don’t need editors to do it for me.
But the next day, or the day after, or the day after that, I find myself thinking, “Wouldn’t that make an interesting story?” Or “I would love to figure out who that woman really is.” Or “It would be fun to tell a story where …”
So, I write.
What makes you write? (If you do. And if you don’t, what makes you read? And if you don’t, what are you doing reading this blog?)