Why I Write.

Why I Write.

Becoming a writer was unavoidable. A mantra of people surrounded me as far back as I can recall and said, “You should consider writing.” But, of course, I’ve been writing business content forever, and I’m good at it, or so I’ve been told. When the word fiction came into the scene, I would slide snail-like into my shell and let the grown-ups do the talking. 

Nevertheless, my mind does function with the curiosity of a five-year-old and a dozen black cats the night before Halloween. Politics drove me to start this blog four years ago. Confronted with my first blank page, which demanded that I write anything, I froze, questioning what could I possibly have to say that could interest anyone. 

That first blank page for this very blog and my inner fearlessness made me push the letters on the keyboard and write something, anything. Once finished, I had one paragraph about nothing of any relevance. I pushed the other button, the one that published my paragraph about nothing, hoping no one would see it. I’ve come a long way since that one-paragraph article.

I’ve read how other writers have problems getting into the business of writing and deciding on a subject. I have none of these. A blank computer page and I are the best of friends. We are made for each other. Writing is like going to the gym. The more you exercise your writing mind, the more fit you become. Want to see my six-pack? LOL

Being an avid reader taught me that writers are brave people. No guts, no writing. Cautious writing is bad writing. If you want to please your mom, bake her some cookies. If you want to connect with a reader, it takes guts. Writing is the battleground where you engage and release your inner demons and goddesses for others to see.  It’s all about the connection. 

I happen to be one of those people who can be fascinated by mundane and trivial events. For example, once my first book was published and people bought it and started commenting that they were in the process of reading my novel, I felt the strangest sense of bewilderment. I was being read. As if I were physically a book. I imagined that I could feel my characters interacting with their readers. It is, after all, their story.

 But my fascination with being read is an entirely new and awesome emotion. It’s exhilarating to be read. I’m not there with you, but boy, oh boy, I sure am. Read writers can never be lonely again. 

So many decisions go into publishing a book. Writing the original story is only one part of this life-and-death affair. Making decisions about what goes and what stays in the book is very stressful. Listening to your own creative voice and overriding other people’s opinions takes guts. Writers management is when you manage your story and live happily with your decisions. 

When a creative person is immersed in writing a novel, I’ve discovered, through my personal experience, that you write with your blood. I questioned myself: Which part of me did this endless writing? Was it my mind, intellectually driven? Was it my soul struggling to be recognized as real? Was it my heart, broken and put back together so many times? This inner search revealed that I, for I speak for myself, write with my blood. How? My mind, soul, and heart could not know the secrets which my all-knowing blood revealed. We flow. 

Thank you for reading.