Why Do You Write. . .

Why Do You Write. . . writing

Why books? Why writing? Why words? I’ve heard these questions so many times. And like most of my answers, I stumble. But I figured out the answers the other night, with the help of a fellow writers conversation.

Thank you Michelle for your insight.

Life can throw so many curve balls into your path. Falling into pot holes, teaching you lesson’s, guiding your heart around the bumps, and giving you the never ending feeling of accomplishment and failure within the same experience of life lesson.

So you ask Why Books? Because they give us the ability to experience someone else’s life lessons, gives the reader an escape from their life, for the moments that pass as each page is turned. I get to live the adventure as well as the heartache from my chair, to learn. Whether it be how to read, how certain emotions could take hold of you in a situation that is presented in the book, or how to swerve around that pothole. Either way, you get to experience life outside of your bubble, without any consequences.

Which I think is the ultimate experience. To learn a lesson without risking anything to yourself. Or maybe you gain just a different perspective. If your open minded enough, you could possibly sympathize with the characters, author, etc.

If the author is truly a writer, the reader can smell the words, feel the emotion, experience the sounds, and maybe learn a lesson through the journey of the story.

So why writing? For me, it all started as an outlet, with a journal. Uncensored, no rules, and complete privacy. Book after book, I wrote my heart on those pages. Some tend to keep those private thoughts and feelings locked up in the castle, rather then on display for the journal to, maybe, one day end up in the wrong hands. I chose the latter. If such person did read it then they might have a better understanding of who I am, where I’ve been and be more willing to except me for who and what I am after those books.

Words have actions, and consequences. You speak a word and you get a reaction usually. You write a word and it could give you a consequence. It helps people to understand the expectations and gives them something tangible to hold on to. Example: If someone tells you, “Yeah we can share custody of the kids.” But then you never get to see them after failed attempts. Those words don’t hold any water. But had those words been written down, you would have a document to present to a judge.

I’m never sure if the words I write are in the right order, said the right way, and I never claim to be perfect. All I know is, when I hear a song, or see something on TV, or I’m woken up by a dream, or something just inspires the hamster deep inside me to spin it’s wheel, I then have no control. I have to write. I have to write what my heart is telling my mind and body. My fingers have to become the slave to my ideas. Punching away on the keyboard to express those raw emotions, bolster my heartache, my minds deepest thoughts.

With that, I hope you understand. My words, writings, etc. are just that. MINE, and are meant as a release, an escape, entertainment for the moment. If they touch you and make you feel something, then I thank you for opening your mind to except it. Whether it’s pain, sadness, anger, happiness, stress, and even confusion. IF by chance I struck your chord the wrong way, I’m deeply sorry, but just know it was all done for literary purposes.


7 thoughts on “Why Do You Write. . .

  1. “To learn a lesson without risking anything to yourself.” You nailed it. I always feel sorry for those who don’t read. They are missing out on so many adventures when it’s right at their finger tips. The fun thing about writing for me, is allowing others to go on those adventures with me, so it’s not such a lonely trip.

    You’ve helped so much in getting me out of my box as a writer. I probably never would have written short stories if I hadn’t been inspired by your writing, and the raw emotion and risks you take by laying it all out there. Recently I took your advice and wrote a short story/ memoir type thing about my Agoraphobia. I never would have been brave enough to do that before.

  2. See, it’s only an outlet to me if it isn’t private…I don’t censor…I’m just better at getting my point across by writing rather than by speaking. It’s really too bad I cannot have an argument wih my husand on paper. I’d always win.

    1. I have often times sat on the couch next to my boyfriend while watching TV and interacting with the kids and have been engaged in a heated arguement via text message. After a while though, you end up giving nasty stares and hand gestures. It’s rather funny now that I write it down…

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