Why Write?

Why on earth, when there are so many easier things to do, would I want to write? Why, when there are so many talented writers who remain unpublished, and so much rubbish that does get published? Why, when it seems no one has time for books anymore, what with their television schedule and their cell phones and their text messaging...? Why, when it is so damn much work to write a novel, and so heartbreaking when no one will even look at it? Why, when I'm sure I could find something else I would enjoy doing?

The truth is, I don't really know.

What I do know is that things get unbalanced pretty quickly if I'm not writing. It doesn't need to be a novel, or anything for public consumption...journaling will fill the need. But that need has existed since I was ten years old and first started writing poetry. Or maybe since I was four years old and first started making up stories about my imaginary friends.

It's not about approval...if it was, I would have made more of an effort to get published...or given up long ago. It's not about money...I've made nothing from my writing so far, and the writer who can actually make a living writing fiction is a rare beast indeed. It's not about prestige...If I ever do publish, it will be under a pen name so that no one can ever find me. It's not about immortality and leaving something behind for future generations...because one of my greatest dreads is the family gathering round after my death, reading my journals, and muttering uncomfortably to each other, Geez, Grandma sure was a twisted bitch, wasn't she? (I need to invest in a self-destructing file cabinet that is tied in to some sort of biomonitor...and the moment my brain ceases to function, *poof*, up in smoke.)

So what is it about, then?

I think it's about needing to write about my experiences in order to validate them. It's about knowing that storytelling is the one thing that I've always wanted to do, right from my earliest memories.

And it's about knowing right down to the bottom of my soul that no matter how hard it is, no matter how useless it seems, no matter how much I'd rather be doing something else sometimes, it just plain hurts too much not to write.