The smell of yellowed pages of a small paperback fills your nose before you reach up to push the book from your face. Your desk is adorned with papers stained with column after column of notes. An open laptop sits patiently next to the papers, its soft screen light inviting you to get up and give your fingers a much needed exercise.
It’s a rare moment for my mornings to start like what was described. Usually it just involves me waking up to my tablet screen inches away from my face.
But aside from what my mornings consist of, I often pondered on what my topics would be for writing short stories, poems and blog posts. I written more than I can possibly remember and have never really considered the reason behind my habit of typing hundreds of words onto a document or writing random thoughts in a notebook. Until now.
Recently, while I was browsing the Internet, I stumbled onto this particular question that appeared as a main subject for a forum:
Why Do You Write?
I felt like the question was aimed at me personally, so I decided to give my best answer to it.
Starting when I was a little girl, it was between 3rd and 4th grade that I started to write short stories just for pleasure. I would usually base them on events that happened involving a family member and myself. My handwriting wasn’t the most visually pleasing, but the stories were well detailed.
My father was a naturally laid-back person, so he loved the stories I wrote. My mother, on the other hand, judged me at one point on my handwriting, grammar and spelling skills and determined that those were more important than getting the story across. This crushed me and I stopped writing at one point so I could hurry up and finish school.
I didn’t pick up the pen to write stories again until high school. Before that time, I simply confined my writing to a journal I received as a present at one point (my mother’s way of apologizing for her harshness to my imagination and to encourage me for the same reason). As of now, that journal is almost filled to the brim with my thoughts, secrets and fears.
Simply put, I write because it’s therapeutic to my mind, soul and well-being. Me having a journal was the easiest way to get through life’s hardships and troubles without making people think I was crazy enough to be sent away for “treatment.” No matter what nasty event I went through or what horrible person I encountered, I kept my thoughts written in ink within the pages out of sight from prying eyes and nosy snoopers.
I also write because of my active imagination. As I mentioned before, my little mind ran as wild as Alice within the sights of Wonderland. No way could I keep all of my fantasies and made-up characters’ dialogues in my brain cells so on the paper they went! After I would get done scribbling down my plans for a well-woven tale, I would lean back and admire my written mess of words, conversations between two characters and such with a smile that would make the Cheshire Cat blush.
So there you have it! Those are the two main reasons why I write the work I write. Writing is something I won’t be giving up easily and quickly because I love what it does for me. What does writing do for you? Maybe you can share your written tale one day. . .