An exercise inspired by This article/prompt
Why do I write? First, and foremost is because I have so many great ideas, so many worlds and adventures in my head that are just crying to get out onto paper. There are two reasons for this. I love a really good book, one that does the job in taking you to another realm, or at least another life well, the kind that make you think about the unwritten parts of the story and wish you had those to read as well. I write because I want to give other people that experience. I want someone to read a really good story and go “Wow, I wonder who wrote that?” and when they look at the author’s name, they have me to thank.
The other part of these stories wanting to get out is that I have always ALWAYS wanted to experience, first hand, the things I read about in books, the fantasy adventures, super powers, magic powers, or just plain exciting action that’s also safe, I’m assured I’ll come out alive on the other end (I’m the main character of course, so I almost always live!). In reality, I’m too poor to go traveling around the world, and I have a son to take care of and real life responsibilites so I can’t go seeking danger (that will most likely end in my untimely demise anyway).
Besides all of that, I really want fantasy adventure, I want to live things I can’t possibly in this realm. The closest I am EVER going to get to that is to write stories the way I want them to go, creating my own adventure instead of reading the way someone else’s went. Putting everything I want to be, things I’ve considered being, or ways I’m just plain curious about into the characters in such a way that they are all their own, unique person but still, somehow there’s a hidden part of me in there (my imagination of course!). Writing it brings me one step closer to the adventure than reading it.
That is my major reason for writing, those three wrapped up into one. My other reasons require a bit more thought, simply because I’ve not yet considered past my main reason.
I suppose another reason I write may be that I like to ponder and explore could haves and what ifs, in reality and in others’ stories (my fanfiction stories being the more obvious result of such ponderings), if I muse them on paper, they can become a story, if I revise, other people might enjoy it too.
I also write to work out issues I’m dealing with, problems I have with the world, to point out injustices, quirks, flaws, or the simple joys of life in such a way that I can see them, and perhaps make others see them in a new light.
I write to inspire thought in myself and those who read my writing.
I write to find out who I am, who I am not, who I wish to be and how to get there. I write to explore myself as well as those worlds I cannot hope to get to physically.
I write to entertain myself (and hopefully others, even if it is just a small, select audience because I’m doomed to remain unpublished by a well-visited medium).
I write to learn things about the world, to ponder them more deeply than I had before and to keep my hands busy while I am deep in thought. I also write so that, in case a kernel of wisdom should escape, I have it written down instead of letting it fly away on the winds of unwritten musings.
I write to remind myself of things I’d like to remember, or to point out things I’d like others to see and pay attention to.
I write to free my soul and all the words, experience, emotions, and fantasies it possesses. I write to release my spiritual energy, as, when I do write (especially when I get a story to an enjoyable revision–ie one that doesn’t make me wince too often–I feel an immense amount of release, I write for that feeling of satisfaction).
I write to express myself, to be heard in this vast stretch of people. I write so that, when I’m gone from this life, a part of me still remains behind, even if no one ever reads it. There is hard evidence that I’m still here. I write so that, when people read what I wrote, they can see the things that make me tick, perhaps even enough to paint a picture of my personality, my thought processes (even if they may assume the wrong elements of my story are me, or my beliefs).
I write to question the way things work, to try to answer the question or compound it (sometimes both at the same time). I write to make the world and its stores of knowledge prove itself to me.
I write because I would love to be able to paint beautiful pictures, but since producing quality artwork is a rarity for me (and I don’t enjoy creating the sucky products as practice in the meantime), I prefer to pain my pictures with words, beautiful, startling, upsetting, intriguing. To paint with words in the absence of colors. I would love to create something like that, a piece that, when you get done reading it, you feel as though you have just looked at the most magnificent painting any soul could ever lay eyes upon.
I write because if I let my imagination build all of this stuff up, crappy or not, it would eventually cause me to be irritable and maybe even a little depressed, uptight, and perhaps even high strung, like I couldn’t breathe.
I write because I feel guilty when I don’t. To whom do I feel guilty when I don’t write? I have no idea. Even before I had friends and people telling me to write every day, giving me “the look” or a small lecture when I don’t. The best I can answer that is, I feel guilty toward my creative side, like I’m betraying myself by not writing.
I write because I don’t play Barbies (and aliens, predators, and GI Joe–yes, all at the same time) any more. No, seriously. Most writers I know start writing young, I often hear of people who have been writing since grade school. So much. I wrote one short and a poem of my own creation up until the eighth grade when I started my very first novel and those two before had been assigned by a teacher for the young author competitions. Up until then, ALL of my stories were played out with Barbie dolls (along with the predators, GI Joes, aliens and any other toys of my little brother’s or cousin David’s that seemed suitable at the time).
In fact, when I went on my super hero trip I actually wrote a letter to mattel (Barbie creators) requesting they make Marvel based Barbies like Barbie as Rogue, Ken as Gambit, Barbie as Batgirl etc etc and insisted that not only was it great for a girl’s imagination (keeping her from limiting her imagination to school-based play and going shopping at the Barbie mall) but they would also hit Barbie and comic book collectors with the series.
I received a letter back! It said that while it sounded like a good idea, it was not the image of Barbie that they hoped to portray but thanks for the recommendation (or some such thing). For those of you who don’t know, they now have Barbie as Supergirl, Wonderwoman, Catwoman (in a very risqué outfit), Elektra, Poison Ivy (not only a super powered person but also a “bad guy”) and probably more. Upon seeing them for the first time I said “Not Barbie’s image huh?” and laughed.
No, I didn’t keep the letter. I also came up with the main story plot to the horror movie Valentine (I think that’s the name) when I was in the sixth grade–No, I SWEAR the writers of that horror movie were watching me play Barbies that one Thanksgiving! Scary that Hollywood scripts can be created by sixth graders some ten years before they come out on film lol.
I write because I absolutely love books and think there should be more out in the world
I write because I’m not yet good enough for publication and so I want to get in the practice to hone my skills until, one day, someone happens by a book or story/poem of mine that makes them love reading just as much as I do.
I write because I cannot not write. Sure, I could put off writing for a few years, but they would be stressful, guilt-filled years with a lack of confidence in myself until I finally picked it back up again, and even then it would be filled with journal writing of all kinds even if there was a lack in creative writing.
I write because I love language, I love playing with it, shaping it, exploring it, molding it.
I write because “being in someone else’s shoes” interests me so much that I can’t help but imagine the life of complete strangers, and writing down my imaginings of complete stranger’s (as well as made up peoples’) lives usually takes me down longer, more complex trails than a daydream. I also love learning about what makes people tick, what made them who they are, what culture they experience, how they are different and the same as me, how they think and feel, their experiences and dreams, going right down to the people I made up and the people that other writer’s make up (making very prone to loving shorts that have to do with the back grounds of characters an author has already made me care about or become interested in).
I write because I am a daydreamer who feels pulled to write down every interesting (day)dream she has and every interesting nightmare too.
I write because I am too poor to travel (kind of connected to the first one but also its own separate reason), even though traveling would give me still more to write about.
I write because my sister wants me to finish something so she knows what happens next!
I write because Domy, Delos, and so many other people want to read my novel(s).
I write because, no matter how small, I WILL have an audience, and hey, if I never get published professionally, it will always give me plenty of entries for my webpages ^____________^
I write because I love to write, even when I don’t feel good about what I’m writing or I don’t even feel like writing, I still enjoy the fact that I’m writing.
I write because I can.
I write because my thoughts are so unfocused that it would be harder to figure things out that I want to do serious thinking on, serious discovery and to merely think about it would make me prone to tangents (if you think I’ve gone off on tangents before in writing, you should listen to my thoughts–seriously) that would take me away from what I want to learn/discover.
I write because I want to share the things I have discovered, noticed, and learned so that others might benefit from them (a bit different than wanting to share a made up world and good story with others).
And, I have accordingly followed the instructions and pushed my reasons past where I would have stopped them originally (heck, if I wasn’t told to push the reasons, I probably would have stuck with my main, and first stated reason), this list would have been half as long, if not even shorter than that at least. AND, most importantly, it’s made me really want to write before bed. I’ll have to read it again tomorrow because, unfortunately, writing this list also took me 35 minutes over when I was going to stop writing it and it is now 2:35 in the morning and I NEED to go to bed.