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The National Writing Project (
NWP) celebrated why writers write for the
National Day on Writing on October 20, 2011 by collecting essays from all different types of writers: fiction writers, scientists, memoirists, journalists, teachers, students, business writers, and more.
I subscribed to NWP’s RSS feed, and for several weeks new essays about writing were delivered to my Google reader. Learning about other people’s love for writing, hearing why they love it and why they continue to do it has inspired me and my own writing. Although the official National Day of Writing has passed,
these essays are still available, and I hope they can inspire you and your writing, too.
In addition to submitting essays on why they write, writers participated in this event in the following ways:
• submitting and/or reading student essays on writing at
figment.com • listening to interviews with reporters at the
New York Times Learning Network• tweeting with
#whyiwrite• posting reasons why they write on
facebook•
…and more.
As the NWP website says, “Writing has been fundamental to human civilization since the first hieroglyphs, and it becomes more important everyday in our world that streams with emails, text messages, tweets, and blog posts. We are all writers, yet the why of writing is a topic of continual exploration.”
So let’s continue this dialogue and exploration on writing!
I write because it’s the best way to organize my thoughts and feelings. I write to explore different characters and situations. I write as a form of mediation. I write with expectations of connecting with other human beings. I write because I love writing.
WHY do you write?
photo credit: dotmatchbox
I can’t remember a time I didn’t read. Books were my escape from the horrific abuse of my child and teenhood–doors into other worlds, revelations on how people could really be (kind, caring, and compassionate), and hours of enjoyment.
Writing, too, is something I took to right away. My abusers frequently threatened to kill me if I talked about the abuse, and they criticized most things I said or turned it into psychological, sexual, or physical abuse, so I quickly learned not to speak much. But writing–writing was safe. It was a world mostly untouched by my abusers. It was a way I could tap into my inner world, everything that was going on inside, and get it out onto paper. It was also a way that I could safely express myself, and “talk” to others.
And when I wrote, the words flowed. They still do.
I love how I can reach others through my writing. I love how I can weave my own truths, compassion, caring into fiction, and make the fiction stronger. I love how I can break silences, show injustices, and help show ways of fighting horrors, all through fiction. Writing and books are like food to me. Necessary, and they feed my soul. I need to write, and I love to write.
Why do you write?
TadMack has posted some lovely ruminations on why she writes. A snippet:
People have always starved, it's endemic to poverty -- the poor we always have with us, after all -- but things have been drifting quietly downstream for some time now, and in the distance is the roaring sound of the rapids.
...and yet I'm writing books. Is this the best use of my time?
Common sense suggests that paddling this canoe now won't even slightly delay our rush toward white water, but that's not why I'm still writing -- I'm writing because I believe in the power of stories.
Go and read the whole thing. Really. She writes very eloquently about questions I've often asked myself, that I know many of my friends have asked themselves.
On my dinner break I was mulling over this whole business of trying to sell my book, wondering why it's so darn important to me. This book in question is a middle grade novel about two girls falling in like. I remembered last year, when I was beginning to send it out--how when I told some of my lesbian friends about it, they said, "Wow. I wish there'd been a book like that when I was twelve."
And just like that, I remembered: Oh, yeah. That's why this is important. That's why I want this book to make its way out into the world, instead of being forever trapped on my computer. Because of all the twelve-year-olds who wish there was a book like that. That's why, as my agent starts sending it out, I've got all my fingers and toes crossed as much as fingers and toes ever were.
TadMack has posted some lovely ruminations on why she writes. A snippet:
People have always starved, it's endemic to poverty -- the poor we always have with us, after all -- but things have been drifting quietly downstream for some time now, and in the distance is the roaring sound of the rapids.
...and yet I'm writing books. Is this the best use of my time?
Common sense suggests that paddling this canoe now won't even slightly delay our rush toward white water, but that's not why I'm still writing -- I'm writing because I believe in the power of stories.
Go and read the whole thing. Really. She writes very eloquently about questions I've often asked myself, that I know many of my friends have asked themselves.
On my dinner break I was mulling over this whole business of trying to sell my book, wondering why it's so darn important to me. This book in question is a middle grade novel about two girls falling in like. I remembered last year, when I was beginning to send it out--how when I told some of my lesbian friends about it, they said, "Wow. I wish there'd been a book like that when I was twelve."
And just like that, I remembered: Oh, yeah. That's why this is important. That's why I want this book to make its way out into the world, instead of being forever trapped on my computer. Because of all the twelve-year-olds who wish there was a book like that, for all the people who look back on twelve and wish they'd had that book. That's why, as my agent starts sending it out, I've got all my fingers and toes crossed as much as fingers and toes ever were.
I've mentioned before what a great extemporaneous speaker Stephen Fry is. This morning I enjoyed his latest "podgram," entitled "Wallpaper."
After some initial meandering, Fry settles in, with his usual eloquence and beautiful, sonorous voice, to discuss Oscar Wilde and his critical involvement in the aesthetic movement.
Fry summarizes aestheticism as viewing the world not in terms of good versus evil, but rather beautiful versus ugly. Nature with its sunsets, its snowy peaks, its fantastic flora and fauna, is beautiful; all ugliness in the world is due to the interference of humankind. But if we view ourselves as only able to mar Nature's perfection, unable to create anything beautiful of our own, hopelessness sets in. What is to stop us, to loosely quote Fry, from crapping in our own nests? That is why, when Oscar Wilde said Americans were so violent because our wallpaper was ugly, he was not simply making a flippant remark.
Recently I was involved in a discussion with other writers about why we write. This was my basic argument: that in writing, as in any other pursuit, you have to believe you have something to offer, some improvement to make (no matter how infintessimal), or you might as well give up—on life, on everything. I believe writing is one way humankind can make the world more beautiful. Writing might also be moral or utilitarian, but in the case of novels, at least, I'm with the aesthetes: I believe their main purpose is to be enjoyed. And I believe the act of writing itself is a way of seeking the truth, making sense of the world from all its clamor—to quote Wildes's "Hélas!":
Surely there was a time I might have trod
The sunlit heights, and from life's dissonance
Struck one clear chord to reach the ears of God...
And though scholars disagree on the precise meaning of the final lines of aesthetic forerunner John Keats' "Ode on a Grecian Urn," I'll twist them to my own aesthetic ends by concluding thusly:
"Beauty is truth, truth beauty"—that is all
Ye know on Earth, and all ye need to know.
Catch this week's Poetry Friday round-up at The Well-Read Child!
I realized a long time ago that aside from licking mailing labels and washing dishes at several of New England's finer eateries - my manual labor skill set could not compete with the sizzle of my brain, which was light years away from anything that involved soapy water and burned popover pans.
Being "creative" is a label we writers wear on our sleeves, or if it's summer, someplace that hopefully shows more skin. We creatives are branded and in today's marketplace we all know a
brand is a good thing so perhaps we should work harder to exploit this
Writer Brand and all get permanent WRITER TATTOOS to set us apart from the normal world. It would be like the scarlet "A", only it would be a "W" which would clearly mean to everyone we meet: "Watch out while I say something clever."
I have had many non-creative jobs and many more creative ones - and I guess the point is, I can't NOT be a writer because there really is nothing else my brain lets me be...except lazy, which I'm actually trying to perfect as my next "brand".
I write because I have to...Because I want to...Because I can't wash dishes very well or drive a school bus. Of course I can write about that school bus driver, who is also writer...who might just be a guy like me with a monster in his brain who devours any thoughts of mundane employment!
And on that note: Time to go write!
These illustrations are from 'THE ADVENTURES OF CALI' by Michele Lallouz Fisher, featuring my illustrations. On his flight home from California to his city apartment a young boy 'HIDES' his caterpillar friend in an airport food stand salad..... Naturally it is a bit surprising to the other passengers on the plane.
I just wanted to say a quick, public thank you to all the kind people who generously donated to Kelly's "fighting fund" to keep me online. I very much appreciate your kindness and generosity. The broadband kit arrived on Friday and I have been flying along the Net ever since; it's made a huge difference to me with regard to working online. Thank you all.
- another one opens, or so the saying goes. I'm not entirely sure of the validity of this saying, having had a door firmly closed in my face this week with the announcement that I shall no longer be heading into the office to do my "day job". My job has been outsourced, so to speak, and I'm going to be working from home as of Monday. It's that or find another job altogether - and given I've received exactly three days notice, I've opted for a trial run of working from home. The problem is, the job means proofing online, and I have yet to upgrade my Internet connection to Broadband (as it's known in the UK, DSL elsewhere). Which means that any money I earn doing my job online will effectively go straight back out of my account to line the pockets of the phone company from whom I rent my line. Outraged on my behalf, Kelly H of Big A, little a has started a "fighting fund" to see if money can be raised to get me online via Broadband since I can't afford to sign up yet myself. If you wish to donate (and of course there's no obligation to do so), please head over to Kelly's blog for more details.
(I'm slightly embarrassed to even be mentioning this, but it was entirely Kelly's idea.)
Of course, this does have the potential to free up more writing time for me - but I doubt that will happen immediately as I shall have to work long hours just to earn enough to live on once I've paid the phone company.
Just five weeks ago I wrote only my second ever fan letter to an actor. I included a birthday card because the actor's birthday was a couple of weeks later... Then, with so much going on in my life, I forgot about the letter until I got home today and found a self addressed envelope waiting for me. I looked at it rather blankly, wondering what it was, opened it and nearly dropped the contents in shock: a signed photo-postcard from David Tennant had fallen into my hand...
The funny thing is that David probably has very little idea of just how happy he's made me, just by writing a handful of words on this "Doctor Who" postcard !
And here's the postcard in question (apologies for the quality of the photo which was taken with my mobile phone's camera - and yes, that's my thumb !)
Deborah C Johnson Illustrations
www.deb-johnson.com
Paula Becker
Client: Ronnie Sellers
By Michelle Lana
Self-promotion
www.susan-mitchell.com
http://itsawhimsicallife.blogspot.com
Anette Heiberg
www.wynlen.no
Joseph Finder, who writes thrillers, says he has sign on his office wall that says "Surprise, Reverse, or Reveal." It's a reminder to him that on every page of one of his books either something has to be revealed to the reader, or there has to be a major reversal, or there has to be a big surprise.
I think I need this sign.
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I write because I must. I can't imagine what I would do if I COULDN'T write. And I truly cannot remember what I did with my time, BEFORE I wrote....and I only began writing about 10 years ago!
I write for much the same reasons you do. It gives me a voice I'd otherwise never find or have the courage to find.
Anne--
It's great to hear a shout-out to the NWP. I've been a TC for my local site for 10 years.
I write to vent. I write to entertain. I write to figure things out. I write to heal. I write to please an audience.
I write to build bridges and to dig ditches. To create connections and to create deeper understanding.
I write because I don't know how to do anything else. I have been writing since I was 5 years old. It defines me as a person. I am the only writer in my family. If I could not write, I would go crazy. Writing calms me.
Nice project. Interesting post. Thanks. ))
Playing with words! This has always been a past-time for me.
I write because it's the best way for me to express myself. I am a shy person and most of the time I am quiet and aloof. Through writing, I can best describe my feelings and thoughts - from the most casual to the most sensitive.
Above all, I write because it is a passion I can never live without.