I haven’t written prose one this site for a while now, after contracting The Poetry Bug, which, come to find out, is a chronic and life long condition managed through meditation, medication, mediation, and occasionally alliteration. And while I love examining life poetically, I first started this blog with a lot of humorous posts (and perhaps rightly made an adjustment after that joke!). But it comes down to this — I love writing of every kind.
I was recently asked a lot of questions about my writing, and it made me think about how I approach writing and what motivates me. Every now and then it’s good to check in with yourself and ask why you chose the craft of writing when many days it can seem like an infuriating pursuit, one deeply misunderstood from the outside world. I’m reminded of just how misunderstood whenever someone puts fame and writing together. Any considerable level of fame is hardly ever achieved, let alone a desirable monetary compensation, so if it’s fame and money you’re after, you’re in the wrong profession. But that doesn’t stop people from assuming. Most of the time these people don’t even read, so I’m not sure what universe they’re talking about, but I’m pretty sure it’s owned by Stephen King and is guarded heavily with rabid dogs and possessed cars.
Most of us write to relieve the pressure of words building up inside our brains. We write because we’re explorers, we’re curious, we’re creative, we’re seekers of truth inside fiction — we’re bigger than our bodies — and reading and writing can take us where we need and desire to go, which is outside the bounds of reality and our own small world.
So, I just wanted to put that out there. Maybe get you thinking (again) about why we choose to pound away on a laptop and sometimes forget to shower, or shave, or look up to find three days have gone by and it’s ice cream and gravel for dinner (again).