I recently got asked the question that many authors and aspiring writers are posed:
“Why do you write?”
That’s possibly the most difficult question I’ve ever been asked as I feel the answer is too simple:
“Because that’s all I’ve ever done.”
To me that sounds like I have no joy from it, no meaning which isn’t the case at all. From a very young age I’ve been writing stories and I doubt if there’s a day gone by that I’ve not thought of ideas or scenes or scribbled something down. I was told by my teacher just before I left her class, to promise her that whatever happens, continue writing my stories. I was then told by a college tutor that I wrote with originality and flair, my first feedback to which I was overjoyed! I was told by a University teacher that he liked the way I wrote characters and the speech flowed freely. From strangers, I’ve received compliments on my style.
But that’s not why I write, it’s just a perk of it. A little “Well done you!” for my efforts goes a long way towards my writing spirit.
Why I write – is just like asking why I breathe. There’s an instinct which transfers to an inherent need in me. I’ve been drawing and writing stories since I could hold a pen. If I don’t write I feel I’ve wasted my day. If I don’t flesh out the muses and characters that appear so brightly in my head I feel I don’t do them justice.
I am a writer, a storyteller. I want to entertain people and I want to write stories that I’d enjoy and share them with people like me or people who like these things so they can become absorbed in the world. I want to create a best friend for someone, even if it’s one person, who can say one of my stories is the go-to book they read if they need comfort or company.
I write because I’m a writer, and no matter what job I may take in future or wherever a path may lead me, at my heart I will be a writer forever.