I recognize that it’s been done literally a thousand times, but not by me. So, taking my cues from this article, a list of 52 blog ideas for authors, I chose the only one that’s actually relevant to my life at the moment. So why do I write?
I write because it’s a compulsion. I write because every book I open inspires me, calls out to me, whispering, “You can do this, too.” I write because every story I hear reminds me of another story, one that was born in the depths of my soul and longs to be told. I write because the world is full of voices and I believe that my voice can add something to the mayhem.
I wonder if that makes me sound conceited? But here’s the thing: I believe everyone has something to say, everyone’s voice has something to teach us. It’s just that everyone chooses to raise their voice in different ways. Some people, like my roommate Rebeca, speak up through acting. Others tell stories through filmmaking. In less conventional ways, people are speaking up by being doctors–by saving lives and helping others. Everyone is a storyteller; not everyone knows it.
So I write because I’m a storyteller and words are my medium. I can’t explain it. Ever since I was a child I’ve had a fascination with words. From reading my first books to my unhealthy need to read something if I’m not doing anything else (it doesn’t matter if it’s the nutritional value on the back of a cereal box or a road sign–I’ve probably read it three times already), I read. And in time, that obsession with reading became a need to write.
I like to play with words, with the way you can line them up in a string and form a coherent sentence. I love the way poetry works, because a well-placed line
break can change the meaning of the entire poem.
I love words. Big words, short words, they have a special ring and beauty to them that thrills me.
I write because I want to tell stories and because I want to manipulate my vocabulary to see if maybe, just maybe, I can tell an old story in a way that will set your heart on fire and thrill your nerves.
And I’m terrified of hitting “publish” on this post. Because there’s a chance you might read this and think, “Dang, that girl sucks. I hope she never writes again.” But you know what? Screw that. I’ll write if I want to write, and if no one likes it, I’ll do it because I like it. You heard that. I write because I want to. Period. End of story. And if you don’t like it, don’t read it.
If you do, solid. Thank you. I hope you keep reading. There will be more.