Okay, We've had the question "what do you write?" and "What you like most about writing?". We've even questioned "What defines a writer?"

But I want to get at people's deeper ideas.

WHY do you write?

"Because I can", "for myself", and "To make a living" to me are surface reasons.
I don't know even the comment "Because I have the ability to." seems a little shallow to me.

Dig deep, meditate on the thoughts. Tell us WHY you write what you write.

Edit: I probably should warn, I'm going to play devil's advocate and ask you to dig deeper.

Message edited by its author, Jul 11, 2007, 4:56pm.

Because NOT to write would be a spiritual/psychic/emotional and possibly physical death sentence. I write to SURVIVE. It is such an essential part of my identity that the loss of my writing persona means that I would endure some sort of Kafka-like dissolution, gradually losing all trappings of humanity and ending up scuttling about on the floor, waiting for a pressing foot to descend (and giving thanks for merciful release). Writing is an OBSESSION, my entire reason for being. These things are hard to elaborate on without sounding melodramatic or ridiculous. It's never play for me, I don't write for enjoyment or pleasure. It's NOTHING like that. That's part of the reason why I'm so hard on hobbyists and dabblers who DARE to call themselves writers though they have invested no time or energy into earning that honorific. It's a sacred calling and when existence itself depends on putting pen to paper, a person can tend to be dismissive and contemptuous of those not courageous enough to persevere "in defiance of all the world's muteness".

Message edited by its author, Jul 8, 2007, 2:42pm.

To get the stories out of my head. They distract me, send me into daydreams, and at a certain point they just have to go onto a page.

Sometimes they're crap, sometimes they're not crap.

Sometimes I only have parts of wonderful stories in my head. In fact, if it's a novel, I usually only have an outline in my head and some of the individual sections dancing there in front of my eyes. It's hard work to write the bits that aren't already fully-formed in my imagination, but they have to be there to link it all together and it's usually just as rewarding to figure them out.

I write because I like to find out what happens next.

Writers must be good liars and they must be nosey.

Message edited by its author, Jul 9, 2007, 12:25am.

archery girl,

You know I never thought of it like that, "getting the story out of your head", but your absolutely right! My imagination will certainly wonder off on its own if it is not focused on a plot line and character development.

And like Cliff, I feel compelled to write. Whenever I have tried to make a "career" of anything else, I feel like a fraud and completely unsatisfied no matter how well I do the job.

archerygirl: What stories? Where do they come from? Why do you have them/get them?

Ferox: Why?

Fiction is largely a lie. But it's based on observed truth. So to put imagination to a truth you have to be nosey to observe and a good liar to shape it to make it entertaining.

When you write fiction you're writing lies, although the reader accepts this and it's part of the fun. To make things convincing you have to have a real-world basis for most things, like dialogue or mannerisms or how people interact. You have to be nosey to ask questions of people to find out how they tick and why they tick. Nosey is just another way of saying curious really, but more poignant.

I think the most curious writers make the best ones because you can take observations and wriggle them around like puzzle pieces and extend and expand upon others.

I write for all of the reasons other people have stated.

I write because I have always been a very imaginative person... In childhood I could get all of that creativity out by playing make-believe, but now I have to do it some other way. And the best way, the most effective way for me, is to write.

I write poems, I write short stories, I write rants and babblings and journal entries. I write anything and everything, because it makes me feel good. It makes me feel complete. When I have "dry spells" and go a long time without writing, I start to feel like something is missing in my life, like a part of me has died, because that is what writing is to me. It is a part of who I am.

Sometimes I write because I feel I have to. Those are the times when, for whatever reason, something in my life is making me so freakin' crazy that I have to get it all out somehow. And once again writing comes to my rescue, it allows me to be crazy and make no sense and ramble and go off on tangents, and in the end I feel so much better. Of course, those are in my journal, which no one else will ever see.

I write because I can't imagine not writing. I can't imagine having all of these ideas, all of these plots and questions and scenerios bouncing around in my head, and not putting them on paper and fleshing them out and seeing what happens with them.

I write because I was given a gift, a gift that I cannot imagine ignoring. I am a good writer, and I know that, and I love writing more then anything in the world. I write about my fantasies, my life, my thoughts, my dreams, everything. Heck, even something as simple as a forum post can become a pages-long writing adventure, because once I start I can't stop that flow.

*looks at length of post* Hey, you asked.

Heather

I don't know which of these two reasons is "the" reason:

- Because I want to change the world

- Because if I don't write things down, I forget them

But, then, I think I'm coming from a different place than most of you - I don't write fiction. I write what is most commonly called "creative nonfiction" - which is, as I think Scott Russell Sanders put it well, about being an authentic and honest witness for the world.

A lot of my writing is selfish - it serves as a way for me to keep track of and understand my experiences as a creature alive in the world - but I'd like to think that sharing my perspectives can help others think about the world in ways they wouldn't otherwise.

I'm a writer for I think three reasons (though tomorrow there may be more)

1. I write because I like to. I love to tell stories. I love to make people smile and laugh. I like to make people feel like their in the story, that they're a part of it. I love peoples reactions when they read a certain line. I love how peoples eyes get wide when somehting shocking happens.

2. I'm a writer because if not I wouldn't sleep at night. Any moment that I'm in a day dream or about to fall asleep I'm in a different world. Most of the time I'm in the world, usually a by stander in a sea of my own characters. If I don't put them on paper I'd go possibly more crazy then I am.

3. I write because I'm good at it. This ones very simple. I'm good at what I do, and if I didn't do it a lot of people would be very annoyed at me.

If you wanna ask more questions and play devil's advocate then do it, because I like to answer them.

Actually, my upcoming book (I got a publishing deal, btw! Didn't remember to post about it here, but... Nonetheless - YAY!) was written in direct response to my brain breaking down when I hit a depression late last year.

I thought that I'd never write anything again, and whenever I tried to write something, all that came out were really bizarre, quite dark fiction...

Now, I don't know if you guys think that necessarily is a bad thing, but for me it was scary as hell. After all, my last book was on Humor and the Christian Faith. Now, in every story I wrote someone died, people had their organs removed while sedated, cornfields started to talk (!) and vampires walked my hometown of Stockholm.

I just could not gather myself to write that essay, that theological article or that funny piece for that christian newspaper. Everytime I tried, my mind wandered to some seriously dark places.

I came to a point where I just stopped fighting it, and let it out. I had no thought of letting ANYONE ever reading it, but I had to let it out of my system, somehow. But my wife read it, and forced me to submit it. And... to both my joy and embarassment, I got a publishing contract.

I am just now trying to decide if I should publish under pseudonym, but I think that this is part of me, too. If people want to have another image of me, unsoiled by horrorfiction, I guess they just have to live with the uncomfortability...

I know it might not be "fitting" for a theologian/writer to write horror, but hey - what should I do?

I publish at another publishing house this time, and... well... I don't know what more to say, really. But that is at least why I write what I do, right now.

Why does an alcoholic drink? I imagine there are as many reasons as there are alcoholics.

Sometimes, I write for revenge.

-G.

P.S. to Mackan.

You said "I know it might not be "fitting" for a theologian/writer to write horror, but hey - what should I do? "

Honestly, I think being a theologian is an excellent qualification for writing horror. I've written all kinds of crazy, dark, violent horror and my religious beliefs have (I think) added a lot of depth, seriousness and resonance that wouldn't be there if I hadn't spent a lot of time contemplating Good, Evil and the difficulties of belief.

-G.

I write because I'm not right in the head unless I do. For years I ran from it. I told myself I'd be satisfied as a voracious reader. I was scared of it. Now, I've accepted that I am supposed to write and I am still struggling to get it out (I don't know if that ever changes), but I'm doing it and it seems that the process is relieving.

after reading the previous 14 posts, my mind is boggled.

a simple five word sentence keeps repeating itself when this question is asked:

I LIKE TO TELL STORIES.

Telling a story is different from creating one.

I could identify with much of what you have to say...keep writing!

I like what you said about "the difficulties of belief"...leaning towards athesism....

I feel similiarly...about not being right in the head until it's out on paper. I just feel sooooo compelled to write at times.

Andyray-

This statement may be true, but at least to me, is a surface answer that makes me go and ask the same question again: WHY? What is it about telling stories that makes you do it?

Citygirl -

So why? What is it about the writing that makes the head go screwy?

Gregstolze -

Okay, so there are a thousand reasons why. I just want to know your reason.
Can writers claim, as alcoholics or other addicts can, that it is a genetic affliction?

Gil:

Before Greg can answer his part, remember that genetic means a parent or grandparent suffered from alcoholism. Whether it's a genetic or learned trait is still up in the air though.

An altered state has caused many writers to write well, while others it just screws up. I'm drinking a sweet Sake while editing. I'm much more open to my Muse than I was yesterday with water. I think I did better work today too.

I don't know. I guess to each his own?

Telling a story is different from creating one.

Yes... but...

Am I the only person here who writes nonfiction? I'm not talking about Books for Dummies, or how-to, or instruction manuals - I'm talking about writing stories that happen to be true.

It doesn't make them any less - just constrained by somewhat different rules and intentions (perhaps) than straight-up fiction.

Maybe I should open a new thread...

ranaverde:

thank you for making it unnecessary to post a response re my statement that i like to tell stories. It would have been rude, crude, and socially unacceptable.

I'm old school in just about everything and the story is the thing. As a 14-year coin-holder in AA, I can tell you that there is definitely a genetic thingie that makes a good alcoholic. Both my mother and genetic father were drunks. Probably there is some kind of genetic propensity for being a writer, but all I know is that I feel I have something to say and it is best said in a story, with its problems, climax, denouement, and settlement. most everything i have published has been true, but in book form, it may be called fiction.

i do not see any difference between fiction and non-fiction for me. at least 80 percent of my 1990 novel "A Candle in the Rain" HAPPENED!! I just changed names and patched it together with theme and style.

Message edited by its author, Nov 2, 2008, 12:01pm.

Gilroy,

It's the NOT writing that makes my head go screwy. I get depressed (you know, clinically) and I have too many thoughts and I analyze my own behavior way too much. The way I figure it is: a writer is supposed to write, a writer who does not write goes batty.

Message edited by its author, Jul 30, 2007, 6:14pm.

citygirl, you may enjoy POETRY AS SURVIVAL by Gregory Orr. He talks about people who write in order to bring order to their lives. I am that kind of writer.

I write because the worlds and lives I write are a lot more fun to live in than the real one. Pure and simple escapism. Also because I like words. They taste good in your mind when you find the right ones. I agree with ranaverde that writing true stories is just as much a creative activity as writing fictional ones because how you tell it can be just as important as what you tell.

And if I'm being brutally honest, I write because it boosts my self-esteem. So maybe I can't join in most peoples' conversation because I can't think of anything to say, but I bet I can write things down better than they can, so if they look down on me that's their problem not mine.

(Well, there's something I'd never confess to face to face. Talk about the anonymity of the internet for loosening your... fingers.)

I write because I have to, and because I can. So far, I have been unable to bring order to my writing - never finished a book, hated the endings of all my short stories - but I'm hoping to change all that by the end of this month.

I am evolving though, and maybe one day I won't need to write, and I won't hate myself when I don't.

#27 Timi,

What's going to happen at the end of this month?

Is it an evolution to find one day that you don't need to write? Is that your hope?

Just curious.

I write because my mouth is shy, but my mind is an extrovert and likes attention.

I write because it is good therapy, keeping my demons at bay by finding humor in situations that used to plunge me into my personal dark pit.

I write to search for meaning, to find God, and to strengthen my faith and spirituality.

I write with the hope that I might find others who understand me.

I write because it is a challenge for me. It is scary to bare my heart and soul on a page and ask others to look at it. I fear rejection and yet I want to face that fear and master it.

Which is why I will now force myself to hit the submit button...

citygirl,

...at the end of this month...i stop fighting myself and do my best to be me. The writer!

The evolution where i don't need to write is in the universe where my father is the sun. At the end of this month, that should change. or, i just move to a parallel universe.

#30, Timi,

Growing up I didn't realize that writing was a viable profession (my mother would have had grave concerns for me if I'd said I wanted to be a professional writer) and, thus, I have found myself with more "practical" and "lucrative" work. I wish I had the courage now to chuck it all and take the chance and write for a living. As it stands, I am instead building a life where I may have that option in several years. Maybe I can find a parallel universe, too. Good luck!

Why I Write

I write for myself. I wonder at the thoughts my words embody. When on the page, these thoughts feel like orphans to my conscious mind. They are the voice of another me. I cannot hear him in my mind’s ear. His ideas appear only on the page. I recognize them as being both of me and not of me. Writing is my way of finding out what he has to say.

I believe he is my subconscious, or perhaps I should say I believe I am his conscious self. I also think of him as my daemon, as invoked by Greek philosophers and characterized by the Stoic, Epictetus,

Zeus has placed by every man a guardian, every man a daemon, to whom he has committed the care of the man; a guardian who never sleeps, is never deceived. (Epictetus, Dissertation I 14,12)

Writing gives my daemon a voice in the conscious world. His ideas often appear on the page blinking, looking around, uncertain where they came from, or what they need to do. My conscious mind grabs them, dresses them up in a bit of grammar, beats them into shape, and rivets them into the structure of the piece. On the other hand, some of my writing teachers would prefer the metaphor of sloppily pasting the daemon’s ideas into a loosely organized scrapbook with scant regard to grammar or style. Sod them; I’m sticking with the rivets.

It is impossible to continue this piece without stopping for a moment to recognize that I do not know who “I” am; much less, what is my conscious mind or my subconscious. I could proceed, in the belief that you, the reader, think you know what I mean by “I” just as you think you know what you mean when you say “I.” But do you? I doubt it.
My “I” is a collective noun for emergent phenomena which have their origins, or so I believe, in the shuttling of neurotransmitters between neurons through their billions of synapses, in my brain. It is futile to study each synapse to try to understand what this “I” is: just as it is both futile and irrelevant to study the motion of each water molecule in the Atlantic to determine the water temperature or wave height. However, there is value in thinking carefully about the degree of abstraction an observer should take when considering the emergent functions of the brain, especially consciousness. I do think we can do better than to invoke some abstract spirit or soul that defies explication.
The question of consciousness has engaged human kind since we became self-aware. I have, in the recent past, become optimistic that science, through the disciplines of molecular biology and neuronal function imaging, will begin to locate areas of the brain wherein the capacity for consciousness resides, along with a functional explanation for the existence of a subconscious mind and how it influences the conscious mind. I now believe this is wrong. Douglas Hofstadter, in his book I Am a Strange Loop, draws an interesting analogy that caused me to re-evaluate my earlier belief. He says that most scientists, when asked to describe the various levels at which the function of the brain could be studied, come up with variations on the list: amino acids, neurotransmitters, DNA, synapses, dendrites, neurons, Hebbian neural assemblies, columns in the visual cortex, area 19 of the visual cortex, the entire visual cortex, the left hemisphere, and the whole brain. Hofstadter then goes on to say this is equivalent to embarking upon literary criticism by studying bookbinding, paper manufacture, ink and its chemistry, and typefaces.

I made this error of reductio ad absurbum in an essay of mine titled Bodega Bootie, (First semester, fifth packet, Bennington MFA program) in which I described a fall that I took. I suggested that I could have fallen in two ways, one, the way in which I did fall, resulted in pain but I recovered, the second led to my death. I postulated that the difference between these two outcomes was the result of a single quantum event leading to two radically different outcomes. I am still not convinced that this is wrong, but I am sure that I failed to think about the emergent properties of the brain and the way that they interact with one another to produce different behaviors. Could it be that such differences are not reducible to a single quantum event and that we need new ways of thinking about brain function?
I have already in this piece plumped for the words “subconscious” and “daemon” to refer to this other me whom I think guides much of what I write. Is this useful? Perhaps I should ask you, gentle reader. Do you, at this moment, feel frustrated and cheated by my use of these terms, or are you comfortable with the subconscious, if not the Stoical daemon? If you are comfortable then read on and I will make you uncomfortable. If you are uneasy, read on, for I will offer you a better perspective.

Daemon is different from the conscious me that is writing this line now. Or is he? Does my conscious mind hand over the reins to him as soon as I sit down at the keyboard? No. However, writing is a conscious conduit into my subconscious, second only to dreaming, and I believe that whatever is good in my writing comes from my daemon, (he bid me put that it.)

When I am asked to write for a particular purpose I become a journeyman carpenter. I study the blue print, if I am given one, if not, I recall a similar project. I look at the timber and the site and begin to saw and chisel, hammer and glue. The work is pleasant, occasionally I make a mistake, the plank does not fit, or I hit my thumb. Overall, the project moves apace. I enjoy using my muscles and falling into the rhythm of the work.
The carpenter is my conscious mind. He rifles through my memory to find the ideas and facts, the experiences and feelings with which to construct the story. He scans the words that appear to make sure there is no warp or fault in their grain. Occasionally he will remove the plank of a complete sentence in an effort to protect himself from embarrassment.

When I write a piece of my own choosing, the carpenter is often on a break, drinking a cup of tea and reading the newspaper. It is then that my daemon straps on his tools. He has an unfair advantage over the carpenter. The daemon has access to all my experiences; he is not constrained by linear time. Jung has argued that the subconscious/daemon is our access to the infinite, the eternal. Jung said conscious access to this can only be achieved by the fusion of the conscious and subconscious in the form of the self and the concomitant realization of the self’s limitations through the process of individuation. The use of the words infinite and eternal is fuzzy. Jung said, “The decisive question for man is: Is he related to something infinite or not?” This is a decisive question for me, and one for which I have no answer. One of the reasons I write is to answer this question. As I have said, I think writing gives me access to my subconscious. Perhaps I am really saying that writing is my road to individuation.
My daemon is a crafty fellow; he does not show himself at the worksite. Instead, he sends out his thoughts and ideas along the fissures and cracks in my carpenter’s mind, even as the carpenter is filling in the crossword. With access to the resources of the subconscious, my daemon can nudge dormant memories and ideas into life, kick the odd emotion here or there, and place fully formed ideas into the carpenter’s mind. When the carpenter picks up his tools after lunch, he looks at the complex joint that just appears from his hands and marvels whence it came. He is happy to claim the work, but deep inside he knows that the person thinking about the joint is not the man who made it.

This piece of prose is unusual because I am consciously aware that I am talking about two different parts of my mind. My conscious mind is present and determined to have its say – but who said that? Was it my conscious mind or my daemon?

I have come to terms with this ambiguity by believing, as Epictetus said, that my daemon never sleeps. Most of the time, he is obscured by my conscious mind. However, when my blood thickens, or I knobble my frontal cortex with a few drinks, or I am in a state of openness brought about my meditation, then my daemon steps forward, quill in hand. A more generous, Jungian, interpretation would be that I am well on the road to individuation such that my conscious and subconscious are fusing to form my self. Where I stumble in this analysis is the lack of feeling I have for the infinite, the eternal, the spiritual. I prefer Kurt Goldstein’s more secular humanist term, self-actualization as embodied in Maslow’s hierarchy. The Penguin Dictionary of Psychology defines self-actualization as: “independence, autonomy, a tendency to form few but deep friendships, a ‘philosophical’ sense of humor, a tendency to resist outside pressures and a general transcendence of the environment rather than a simple ‘coping’ with it.” Sounds good to me.

In an earlier effort to grapple with the origin and meaning of spirituality, I looked to the creation of Neolithic stone circles, some of the earliest human artifacts (Stone Spirit, First semester, first packet, Bennington MFA program). In researching this work, I discovered a large body of literature citing the origin of spiritual beliefs not as an intellectual construct, but as something hard wired into the human brain, which has manifested itself through the ages and across all cultures. Lewis-Williams and Pearce, in their book titled “Inside the Neolithic Mind.” eloquently describe and ground this concept. They develop a tiered model of the cosmos from an extensive study of the reported experiences of people in various types of altered states. These states include hypnagogia (an intermediate condition between wakefulness and sleep), near death, pain, drug taking, fatigue, rhythmic dancing, and many others. They discovered that regardless of the origin of the altered state or their socio-economic and cultural background, people experienced many common phenomena such as a feeling of flying, of seeing tunnels of light and passing through a vortex. These findings lead Lewis-Williams and Pearce to infer that these experiences are a result of a shared neural structure, which we also presumably share with our Neolithic ancestors, and from this they proposed a tripartite tiered cosmos construct; up, down and here. One does not have to look far to find modern day parallels of the tiered cosmos. Most monotheistic religions subscribe to some form of heaven, hell, and here. Why is this if it is not wired into our brains? Perhaps my daemon is the product of a similar neural structure. He is omniscient and not subject to the conscious construct of linear time. When I enter an “altered” state, he moves quickly to express himself before my mind valve closes up again and shuts him off.

When I read my work, I feel good about myself. I feel competent. On the page, I am the man I aspire to be in the flesh, or at least until my critics get hold of the work and remind me that I have a way to go before I can pass myself off as a writer. In spite of this, I relish the prospect of people reading my words and thinking well of me. Perhaps that is another reason why I write – to assuage a feeling of inadequacy, of never being the man I would like to be in real life. Writing is a crutch, a coward’s excuse for not being who I want to be. Writing is the equivalent of a gun. It is a means to cause an effect on another person at a distance, without even having to look at them. By the same metaphor, the ancient tradition of Homeric ode is more akin to the sword, where one looks one’s audience in the eye as one speaks the work.

I am on purpose when I write. I feel keen, interested, and engaged. The conscious mind is an inhibitory organ. I visualize it sitting in my frontal cortex controlling both what comes out of my subconscious and my more primitive brain areas such as the limbic system. For example, some people believe that time past, present and future all coexist in the subconscious in a chaotic, seething mix. Linear time is a construct of the conscious mind enabling the brain to make sense of the world, to create paths and guide us to food, mates, and safety. By analogy, the conscious mind may marshal the thoughts of my daemon and render them intelligible. They key issue, as with all editors, is whether the edits are on form or substance. In my case, I am sure it is both, and when my conscious mind gets the upper hand and starts to change the substance, that is when the heat drains from my work. When writing, there is a silent battle raging in my brain, sometimes the “I” that people see and interact with wins out, probably to the detriment of the work, but sometimes, and I would like to think increasingly so, my daemon triumphs and his blinking ideas appear on the page lashing their tails and asking for no quarter.

I believe that the kernels of creativity lie in this rich, subconscious, brew. Powerful art, in the form of dance, writing, painting, music, and sculpture, comes from gaining access to the subconscious. Writing is my conduit into this nether world. However, unlike Orpheus or Dante, I have no guide. When I start to write, vapors, ghosts, and spirits rise up and settle on the page. Most of them disappear under the bright sun of my conscious mind, others need to have a stake driven through their heart. However, some, clad in scaly armor, stand tall on the page and will not move. It is for these that I write.

I also write for friends and strangers. I like the experience of other people reading my thoughts, as they lie finished, on the page. For it is then that my thoughts fly without a net. I am not there to make sure they are construed in the way I intend. I cannot charm the recipient with a smile or a wink. I cannot use all the mysteries of non-verbal communication to advantage my words. They have to stand alone, unaided. In the case of strangers, my messengers face their hardest challenge, for if they fail, there is no hope of reinforcement or mercy. Each time I write I send another seer out into the world with only its wits for protection.

There is a less noble reason I write for others. I want people to be impressed with my thoughts. I want people to know what I have seen and felt, where I have been, and what I have experienced. I write because I am in need. That sounds better than “I am needy.” However, the latter is closer to the truth. I need recognition. I am insecure, and for a few moments when people read my work, I imagine they are paying attention to me. If I did not need this, albeit transient, consideration, I doubt very much that I would be writing in any serious way. My writing exists because of this need. If it has power to change, amuse, or entertain people, it is doing so only because of my dysfunction. Had I been brought up differently, or had had a different social history, no one would be affected by my writing.

When I write down my beliefs and put them in the public domain, I am spoiling for a fight. I want to upset the people with whom I disagree. I want to use my wits and logic to make them realize the error of their beliefs. I am a small boy with his fists flailing against the injustice and unfairness of the world. I am a failure. I am not a diplomat. I do not have the courage or maturity to seek the compromise that will move my case forward by preserving my opponent’s dignity.

That I like writing because my thoughts are out there without a net, is the reason why I fail as a writer who wants to change the world, or even to influence my readers. I am unwilling to compromise. That sounds noble but it is the false bravado of one who will not concede so that others may speak and develop a consensus. Writing to produce change is diplomacy. It is give and take. I should say in my writing: here is the logic and purpose of my thinking. If you disagree, I respect you and perhaps we can construct a compromise together, for I am an honorable man and, as you can see from my writing, I am worthy of your compromise. To my shame, I do none of these things.

I write for my friend in prison. Nothing is harder for me than to face the blank screen with him in mind. My wit fails me. I have no energy, no wry anecdotes, and no way to convey my feelings. I trot out gossip like a journeyman scribe transposing the mutterings of an old man to a letter writer. The words die on the page. I think it is because I see myself in him. I am in a prison of disappointment and unrealized dreams. What do I say to myself in such a situation? The garden is lovely just now with clematis and hollyhocks in full bloom?

I write for my teacher. My teacher is a collection of the ideas, criticism, and insights given to me by all the people who have influenced me. This assembly makes me pay attention. Is my prose muscular and taught? Does every word carry its weight and earn its position in the platoon that is about to go forth into enemy territory? There is no room for the photographs of loved ones, no room for novels or tins of biscuits, just K-rations and ammunition, jungle knife and morphine. That is it. Well, no morphine. If the work gets shot it will be left to hang on the wire, moaning into the long night of a poor review. When the teacher shoots, there is no hiding place. Dangling modifiers and split infinitives will fall into the pungee pits, unmourned.

I write for those yet to be born. Those who may come across my published work in the future. In addition, I write for one special person. In 2004, I built a fire pit in my garden. In the process, I buried a box beneath a large flagstone in a path leading to the pit. In the box, I put some of my poems, coins, and a newspaper. After placing the box, I wrote a note. This, in part, is what it said:

Every time I walk over the flagstone, I get a strange feeling. Who will find the hidden box? How long will it lie there, undiscovered? Will someone in the distant future want to build her vision of a fire pit and decide that the stone has to move? Will she find the black granite I put over the box and feel the frisson of excitement as she pulls it out? Will it be relevant at that time to think of riches? Will she read my poems, research me, and decide to write a story about how I came to place that box. Will she know me as a person who restored her house back at the turn of the century? Will this be my only hope for immortality, albeit transient and, depending upon her character, disappointing? Perhaps she will find this note in a book, in some electronic file system that has managed to survive. Then she can read this, imagining me, imagining her, imagining how that box came to be there.

Therefore, gentle reader, if indeed you are her reading this, take solace in the magic that you were imagined before you were ever conceived.

If you made it this far it is probably because you were either comfortable with my designation of my other as my subconscious or my daemon or, and I suspect more likely, you were uneasy, and looking for a better perspective. For those of you in search of the latter I say that “I,” as you might encounter him in a seedy bar, is a form of self, a fusion of the conscious and the daemon, a man on the road to self-actualization, but with a good few miles to go. If you happen to read what “I” have written, then there is a good chance that my daemon will have put a little more of his spin on the matter.

(Without reading the replies of anyone else here)

I write because I haven't yet found a way to stop that is not painful. I can't imagine my life without wiritng in it (probably because my imagination shies away from the idea as an impossibility)

Writing is not merely my blood, sweat and tears, but my joy and my sanity as well. It is not the summation of who I am, but vital to my survival. I am compelled to write as I am compelled to breathe.

I started writing because I was bored and wanted to do something in a story I could never do in real life, then I dropped it for a while, then I started writing again, and now I'm writing because that's my entertainment, I love it, and lastly because I want to get my story finished because they're are people reading it as I write it who will never talk to me if I don't finish it.

...I beg to differ on the post that spoke of fiction as basically a lie. From my perspective, fiction is not a non-truth.
A Jungian psychologist (Robert A. Johnson) said that nothing is made up...it all comes from the unconscious. Even though you may not realize it, even your wildest attempt at fantasy/lie speaks of truth, at some level, in some place.

A wren does not sing its song because it is wren nature.
My writing is almost exclusively metaphysical, mythical, or mythical fiction. I found out a long time ago that whenever I could not or would not "learn" (or see beyond my current reality) all I need to do was relax and be open, and a story would come to gently induce me out or my constrictions and into "the next horizon".

Truth is but a resting place until the next revelation---Strike a Chord of Silence

Message edited by its author, Aug 26, 2007, 10:55am.

I write because my head is like a glass bowl that is continually being filled with characters, ideas, situations and absurdity. I need to put all of this stuff somewhere, or I imagine I would explode, at least metaphorically. So I write it down, 1000 words a day, every day, typing fast and without pausing. I don't know where it comes from but I do know where it goes, and that is something of a consolation.

"...which is, as I think Scott Russell Sanders put it well, about being an authentic and honest witness for the world."

This is why I write also, although I write fiction. There is always truth in it. I want to express and preserve what I have witnessed.

I'm new here- but i would say, people do whatever occurs to them to do. And it occurs to me to write. Even when i am being lazy- and i am often lazy- i find peices of paper building up around me, my computer is littered with folders with scraps in them.
The truth is, though, the reason i write might just be that it was an idea my mother put into my head. She has this story about me when i was at nursery school, and one day i woke up and spent the whole day discribing what i was doing in the third person. "She picked up a brick and put it on the table. She picked up another brick, and put it on the table next to the first one". Now, i think she exagerates- but she said she thought at the time, that this is what a writer does. (visulising their actions in the third person- is that not what serial killers do? OK, call that plan B).
And it's nice to have a place in your head to go to, that is not all caught up in whatever shit is going on in your day to day life.
But other then that- i write. I read and i write. There is this tingle in my head when i develop a plot twist, there is the tentitive feeling of satisfaction when i read back a sentence and like it. There is this tendency of mine, you see, to write.
And that is why i do.
(though usally with spell checkers.)

Really, is that what serial killers do? I constantly narrate my life in the third person inside my head. To the best of my knowledge, though, I've never killed anyone... yet.

>39

Hey, writer... serial killer... I can't see the problem here.

Both get to work with sharp tools, usually makes a mess and have fairly flexible working hours. What more could you want out of life?

Oh, and with the new laws coming up both here in Europe and Over There, soon you'll be as likely to be put in jail for either, as well.

Sorry, I'll shut up now. Have a good week-end, all!

I write because the book I wanted to read more than anything else as a child, young adult, and adult doesn't exist outside of my own head.

#41 - what new laws are these? Am I hopelessly out of touch?

i write because it's a place i can put everything i've ever done in my life.

i also like watching people. i consciously and systematically study them and imagine how a person with a certain nature would think and behave in certain cirumstances.

I have no earthly idea why I write.

I just do.

I write what I want to read and can't find on the shelves. It's self serving.

I write because my first brother who was a writer committed suicide... and since I found him 11 years ago, that writing spirit/ghost/nudge seems to hover over my life.

I write because my second brother who is a writer has a weak kidney... and no one really knows how long anyone will be around anyways.

I write because honestly my life is a little bit crazy... and I figure, if I just sit in a room and write maybe I'll find sanity within the pages, between the spaces on my computer screen.

One day, I'm sure I'll make sense of it all.

There's a difference between writing as a personal experiment--like picking up a guitar and trying some chords--and staying with it for the long haul. Both are fine. But they're fundamentally different.

Those who stay with it for the long haul are people who write because they can't do otherwise.

I've had plenty of rejections. I've published some books. It's better when there's acceptance. But I'd write regardless.

It's an itch, a compulsion, that must be acted on to be true to oneself. Agents and editors can enter the picture, but they're simply the local weather, not the animating desire. The work of writing--the good work--is an ongoing conversation with the books you've read and loved.

It's up to the individual.

I found another reason to write...

It is actually pretty good self-promotion. :)

(I haven't read everybody else's reply yet)

I write because I'm a liar. Writing gives me the excuse to lie and make up things that nobody need believe.

mackan, I agree. In fact I think people write so they could leave an imprint on earth or something.

janis_mae: Now that last thing was truthful ;) Not sure I've seen you around here, so... cool to meet you, aswell.

becuase i have nothing better to do

mess 50

Hi janis_mae, I'm yareader2 and I write to tell the truth because no one believes me. So I write in fiction if that makes any sense.

I write because if I try to keep all these ideas trapped in my mind, I'll lose my sanity. I write because I'm much braver on paper than I'll ever be aloud--writing gives me the chance to express myself without opening my mouth.

I write because it's something I've always done and I'm miserable when I don't. Also, it's become a part of my indentity and people remember me by it. If I stopped, not only would I feel incomplete but my family would be pretty confused and/or concerned. I did once for almost a ten year stretch and it was a terrible period in my life.

I agree whole-heartedly with runi. MAy I quote you?

I write because I'm much braver on paper than I'll ever be aloud--writing gives me the chance to express myself without opening my mouth.

That is me to a "T"

I write because not to do so would cause a huge explosion—akin to a volcano, and I don't know anyone who would want to scrape my remains off the ceiling and walls of my apartment. It's better for everyone if I get what's on the inside, out.

It's strange, but I have never actually considered this question and while thinking about it and reading other writers' reasonings, the answer came to me: I like stories.

That statement is too simple, of course. It's more that I am an extremely imaginative person (something that caused me grief in school because I would sit and daydream all day, blocking out what the teachers said). I actually find that I enjoy the process of putting together a story in my head and running through it over and over again thinking of new aspects to add and others to remove, so that I can basically tell myself the perfect story (perfect for me, at least).

Ancillary to that is the fact that it gives me a rush when new ideas come to me to expand or enlighten a story that I have rolling around in my head.

Thanks for that question. It was actually pretty useful to me.

My eyes cross when people talk about writing because they have to, or for some spiritual reason. It's just alien to me. I had a go at trying to work out why I write on my blog recently, which is the first time i've ever approached the subject. I feel threatened by all the people who claim it's like a higher calling, or that they'd explode if they didn't. I'm far more pedestrian than that, and sometimes I worry that people won't think I'm a 'proper writer'. I just... like writing.

Anyway, the best conclusion I could come up with was this:

If imitation is the highest form of flattery, I write because I like reading.

As long as there are books I enjoy reading, I'll be writing. Books inspire me, encourage me, and entertain me. I write in the same genres I enjoy reading, and I have to police myself pretty thoroughly to make sure I'm not just rewriting books I enjoyed. Editing is my dearest friend in that respect (and easier than writing, I have to admit!).

i said above i don't know why i write, i just do. well . . .
john dann macdonald believed (in his heart) that writers are a different species of homo sapiens. home ecrivus sapien, maybe. he says this because we share the ability to live alone in a crowded world, we can make up worlds within our head, and every once in awhile an other-than-human force enters our work and writes for us. regular humans do not have that happen.
Twice this has happened to me (that i'm conscious of, although I suspect it has happened hundreds of times while writing a news story or editorial).
I agree with JDM's belief. I just extend that species to other creationists. I have a good friend who's a pain in the ass like me, but who restroes cars, and he has shared with me that all three of these elements exist in his work. "There comes a time in the restoration," he says, "when the car takes over the job and demands to have me do certain things."
Last week I finished a novel and the last few chapters were totally didcatated by an other-than-me source, which I identify as the protagonist character, and it ended in such a way I doubt strongly I would have thought of myself.

Message edited by its author, Apr 1, 2008, 9:45am.

I still write for myself. I do like when someone has read a story of mine and asks for another. It feels good.

It's pleasurable--especially poetry, but other stuff, too. It helps pays the bills--I'm an academic, and advancement depends in part on publication. I really like trying new forms and genres; writing is a way to get inside them & see how they work. Writing helps me trick myself into believing I can make sense of things--not a bad illusory benefit.

First post on this site. Hello, all.

I write historical fiction. Bleeding Kansas and the Nevada silver mining booms and busts during and after the Civil War interest me. I read some history, then put plausible characters in the middle of the mess and try hard to have them being realistic members of their society -- sometimes heroic sometimes cowardly, picayune, noble, ignoble, and so on. And on. The history comes to life, and it is amazingly interesting to me, to learn something of how it must have felt. That keeps me writing to see what happened next, and to keep editing because whatever happened surely was more sublime and subtle than the way I wrote it the first time.

And I consider myself a rich and famous author of many novels, in waiting. For an agent....

Regards fellow scriveners,

Lee Humes.

Today I'll say, I write because I have not lived.

Reading and writing are activities as complementary as breathing in and breathing out. At times I've written for specific purposes, including publication, but deep down underneath it all, I write for the sheer pleasure of the process.

I like the post by yareader2. I however, write for the opposite reason, because at times, I feel I've lived too much. Writing is an escape, a way to remove myself from the horrors of real life. In either reading or writing, I can escape from the ten year old diagnosed with an agressive cancer or the six month old who's femur has been snapped like a twig by the ape like grip of his drunken father. Not everything in life is dark and horrible, but just one near drowning of a toddler in a back yard pool can make it seem like it. I try to remember the good things I've seen when I write, not the bad. Horrible things might occasionally happen to my characters, but they are after all just characters.

I can never contribute to the threads about publishing and the struggles most writers go through because I've never attempted to publish anything. I know nothing of POD or the fights with amazon. I write for the same reason I read, because I like escaping every now and then, and for me that's enough.

Jeez, I'm not typically a negative person, but I guess it's been one of those days.

Message edited by its author, Apr 16, 2008, 7:15pm.

Kami, if you ever decide to seek publication let us know. I'll give you what help I can.

Thanks John. I really appreciate that. Having given myself a little therapy, both of the writing and wine varieties last night, I'm feeling a bit more upbeat today. Who knows, maybe one day I'll put together some of my rag tag ramblings and take you up on the offer.

I like your post too klarsenmd. Sorry to hear that you feel like you have lived too much. There are meditations, yoga , and such that can help. The view of who youare in your eyes can be reborn.

When I write I don't try for good things or bad things. I write for someone. I write a story for a child or to explain why I am different to a friend.

And I also like to write for those who cannot stand witness for themselves.

Message edited by its author, Apr 25, 2008, 11:26pm.

I write to expose the environmental injustice, the political injustice, of Niagara Falls, NY; to make a difference, to make people care, to make small moments defining moments have meaning, to connect the dots, to write for an earth that doesn't speak in the way most of us hear or even notice.

I write to put my ideas down and expand them. I take so much joy in showing/telling them to other people and it makes the whole experince much worth it when I hear some praise from them. Most of the time I write for my own self, storywise. I write something I've always wanted to see/read, and if someone likes it Great, if they don't, I got to put down what I've always wanted and I'm still happy.

HOWLINGman,

I think most writers get joy from showing their stories to others, that is why they publish. I met people because of what they wrote, by that I mean I don't think we would have met otherwise. So, I first started to write just for myself, then I thought if I could meet just one person because they read something I wrote and published that would be great. But I have a problem with those around me wanting to read what I write. In general I am ridiculed and not supported in what I do, so I became very protective about my writing. I think people think I am writing about them, nothing could be farther from the truth. What I fear is someone I know reading how I feel and think through my writing and thinking I am not worth being friends with anymore. My vocabulary is not sophisticated enough or my stories are just silly and useless. Then they will pity me and feel superior to me. Well, I guess they already feel superior to me. I don't know why they want to read what I write. I know I don't want to looked down upon by any more people. Strangers have read my writings and like them very much. That makes me feel good. So, I will publish someday, because some one out there has to feel the way I do and I want to try to meet them.

#73 What a beautiful thought. Wanting to meet people and doing so through your writing is an amazing reason. I'm sure lots of folks on this site would enjoy seeing some of your work in print. I wish you the best of luck!

Kami

Writing for me is a sort of therapy. I started writing in my early teens because I was diagnosed with a rare joint condition that I didn't know how to handle. For the past couple of years, writing has keep me from going insane and it has allowed me to become more than just a person with a disorder.

Right now, writing has been a way to relieve stress...especially since I started college last year. I also write to discover myself from another angle. It gives me an outlit to do all the outrageous things that I can't do in real life.

I don't think it's shallow for me to say that I write because I'm good at it. I am. If I didn't think I was good at writing, or had the potential to be better, I wouldn't bother, just as I don't bother with cooking French pastries--my croissants are lumpy and likely to stay that way.

With writing, my innate skill offers me the encouragement to work towards improving--if I didn't have that locus, writing wouldn't have as much meaning to me as it does. I don't think it's necessary to be afraid of stating a pride in my own work. I don't want to offend anyone with this arrogant-seeming assertion, but I'd rather that than downplay the one thing I'm genuinely good at.

I write to make money and I write to excise stories from me. I write to understand other people and viewpoints better. At best, I write to add mine own words to the millions floating around already, thinking that they will be of value to someone. And ideally, they are.

#74

Thanks for your comment. Want to hear something weird?

I said a similar thing to a famous author and the response was like yours but in more depth. I was asked " Why do I only want to meet the living?" Books give us a chance to meet someone that once was alive also. And their words have lingered.

It is just , well, amazing things happen to me when I read. I can honestly say, reading is the most fun I have.

I write as a comfort to myself. If I've had a bad day, then once it's out on paper (or closer to the truth, the computer screen), then it's over and done and I don't have to deal with it anymore. I can kill people off by putting them in as characters and doing a short piece on exactly what they've done and their equally gruesome death.

I write because I can't express things any better than that. Dancing or singing or acting and putting on another's words... I can't really understand it. But writing to let it all loose makes sense to me. I'm very introverted by nature, but if I'm able to write things, I'm less apt to lie and just say what people want to hear, and more able to say what I really mean. It's also a lot easier for me than speaking is.

I write because I love to read. If the books I read when I was young made me realize that hey, actual people wrote these and I could do that, too, then maybe I could do that for others. (And anyway, what's the harm in some mimicry of Tolkien? ;) )

Writing can be cathartic, it's true. But why? I like the comment above that says, essentially, I write because I'm good at it.

If I ascribe a reason, a goal to my writing, I’d say that I want to encourage people to understand each other. Writing is a safe way to learn about other people, other ways of life, other ways of thinking. The more you understand what the differences are between you and someone else, the better you can understand each other. I want people to accept each other. I guess I want world peace.

I also like really meaty, juicy topics. So far my four books (two published) are essentially about the cognitive disconnect between the facts about homosexuality and the reaction of many people to it. My second book, THINKING STRAIGHT (Kensington), is also about people using external authority (Judeo-Christian traditions) to validate their knee-jerk reaction of discomfort.

The book tells the story of a Christian, gay teen whose parents put him into an ex-gay camp to straighten him out. He manages to find a path that lets him be true both to himself and to his religion, but he has to take a step back from the nuts and bolts (or tactics) of his religion to get a more strategic view of what its objective really is. This is the kind of stuff that fascinates me.

I saw an article recently that said if you couldn’t be alone in a room for an extended period of time, you couldn’t be a writer. When I’m writing, I’m never alone, and three hours go by in 30 minutes. I write because I have to.

I like the premise of that book!

Do "ex-gay" camps exist? That's somewhat frightening.

I write for so many reasons, and it all depends on the specific day and mood I'm in, but the main reasons? I think that most of my joy in writing comes on the days when I write because I want to know what happens next. Sometimes when I'm writing, the story seems to come from nowhere. Even when I have a plan/storyline/thread, whatever, I find new ideas and threads end up on the page. I like that! Sometimes it's like I'm reading the story as it comes from my fingers and keyboard.

Other days, I write to stop or at least slow down the stories and ideas that are bouncing in my noggin.

Some days it seems like work, and I force myself to write so I can pay the bills.

Some nights I wake up with an idea and need to write just because I know the creative juices could stop flowing at any moment and I don't want to waste them.

I could go on...There are so many reasons to write. Even when it seems hopeless/pointless/depressing, even when the reasons are nigh-unhealthy reasons, it's still mostly a pleasure to create something through writing!

Dano --YES! That's a great description. When I start to write, I have no idea where the story -- and the characters -- will take me. But they take me, not the other way around. Though I wish I had your problem of having to force yourself to write to pay the bills; I can't say I'm making money at this. Yet!

And LheaJLove, yes; there are "ex-gay" camps all over the world. Exodus is the name of the largest I know of, and it's a whole network of these centers. Another is Love In Action/Refuge (how they didn't figure out that this is "LIA/R" is beyond me). I knew I had to write the book when I read that the director of one of these centers was quoted as having said he'd rather lose a teen to suicide than to homosexuality.

That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard of.

LOL! Yes, it is ridiculous. But it's true.

Belief systems are, by definition, not following a rational process. Rational processes require proof, and belief doesn't. And some belief systems are less rational than others, and in my experience the farther they venture into fundamentalism, the less rational they become.

You'd really have to do some serious irrational twisting to believe, as a Christian, that Jesus would rather have someone kill themselves than stay alive -- even if you believe what they're doing in life is a sin. As long as someone's alive, there's hope.

So yes. Ridiculous. But true.

I write to finally feel something...

I totally agree with you on that last message, rawrbree. I write to express the conflict, the undying fantasy that declares to be announced to the living world.

I write because that is how I am most comfortable. Writing it down is easier than saying it out loud. I can collect my thoughts all in one private space. I write to think. I write to relax. I write to rant. I write to collect, mostly. Not so much recollect, as just collect. My journal is a collection of images, opinions, ideas, recognized things, etc. I write because I have to, if I want to keep my sanity.

I most relate to the state of having a story in my head all the time incomplete and feeling that I need to get it written. It is never the story that I write, I am more often motivated by need, prompts from literary magazines and such, the story I have always wanted to write is a modern ghost story taking place in the area of the Jersey Shore where I live, based on the life-saving stations that were here in the early 1900's. Someday that story will find its way out, I have done quite a bit of research already. For now, I am writing for the first time in my life with an eye to being published. And of course, I write to unload my busy mind, to help me feel better when I am sad, and to untangle confused and painful emotions that life piles on us when we seem least prepared to cope.

I most relate to the state of having a story in my head all the time incomplete and feeling that I need to get it written. It is never the story that I write, I am more often motivated by need, prompts from literary magazines and such, the story I have always wanted to write is a modern ghost story taking place in the area of the Jersey Shore where I live, based on the life-saving stations that were here in the early 1900's. Someday that story will find its way out, I have done quite a bit of research already. For now, I am writing for the first time in my life with an eye to being published. And of course, I write to unload my busy mind, to help me feel better when I am sad, and to untangle confused and painful emotions that life piles on us when we seem least prepared to cope.

I've recently come to the conclusion that I write because I'm a control freak, and I want the world to be the way that I WANT it to be. Obviously, this can only be so in a world that I create and CONTROL. In my world, I am a god(dess)!

I write for most of the reasons stated above. For my historical fiction, it is similar to playing detective, digging for clues about characters and events that do not read right -- to use a musical analogy, it's like hearing a clinker.

I have more stroies in my head than I shall ever have the time to write.

The final most cogent reason is that I must write and have severe withdawal problems when I cannot.

I "space out" among company as ideas come to me as well.

To live forever...

#92

I think you are more honest then most and hope you get what you wish .

Message edited by its author, Aug 5, 2008, 12:23am.

First post in this group!

I write because sometimes characters walk into my head and won't leave. I fall in love with them. I create stories as homes for my characters to grow, not the other way around. I've never had children but I imagine it's an imitation of that. I don't always love writing. Heck, sometimes I don't even *like* it. But I'm filled with the longing to birth my characters into something solid. It could be any medium-- art, film, music, but I'm an avid reader so I have a natural bias towards the written word.

I don't always feel like I have the skill or that I'm the right person to do it. But you know, your kids are your kids, and you're going to raise them the best you can anyway.

Message edited by its author, Aug 13, 2008, 7:11pm.

To make sense.

I write for two reasons..atleast that I can think of.. because I love reading so much that I want people to read my books and enjoy them. And also because in a normal day something will happen and subconsciously I start a story in my head. The only thing for me is that I get so caught up in my writing and have so many ideas that they just get jumbled.

I write because the little people in my head would drive me crazy if I didn't give them an outlet;)

Art is the creation of meaning out of inchoate chaos. To make sense.

#67

Do you just write for yourself or do you share your stories? I am not good at sharing, but I feel alright with strangers reading my stories. I guess I don't want to hear things like "It's always the quiet ones." Sometimes I don't show it when I "get" the joke. When I write, I always show how much I know.

I started writing when I was little, as soon as I could read and write. Reading was my favourite thing to do which probably influenced me a lot but I'm not really sure why I started.
My reasons for writing changed over time. When I was about 10, I know I used to write because I always had little stories in my head that I wanted to get down on paper so I wouldn't forget them. I used them to entertain my siblings when my mother was out working. She'd work long hours and my siblings who were then 5 and 7 used to really miss her. My dad was really useless at looking after us.
When I was in secondary school, I'd write to keep myself busy and keep my mind off things I didn't want to think about. I was always an outsider. Writing was my way of expressing myself. It was my way of working out certain issues in a way. I felt like I was never able to tell people how certain things made me feel. Like I observed and noted thing that no one else seemed to notice and I'd write about them. I probably don't even make sense...
Now, it's my way of sharing how I view the world, how I feel about certain things and at the same I create this world with all of those problems in but I can control what it changes and how it affects it. I can try and work out how an issue affects people with different personalities. It's a way that I can work out my issues, express emotions that I might not be able to in everyday life. It's a way for me to show people who I really am in a way.

I'm going to reply as Tennessee Williams did, Because I found life unsatisfactory.

My life is a drag. Real dullsville. The life I write about is more intersting than mine. I live through my characters. I use to daydream alot about being a detective fighting crime or a super hero saving lives. Now I write.

#32

I like your discussion of your inner daemon. I feel more like a medium between two worlds when I write. The stories come together and I am just putting them out for the world to see.

#102
Funny, I think I write to tone down what I have experienced. Sorry you live in Dullsville, can you ever get out for a vacation?

My only vacation is reading or writing. sometimes I enjoy a good conversation on anything but politics

It looks like the person who started this thread isn't responding to it anymore; too bad.

Nevertheless, I'll answer for the next person who checks the thread.

I write for many reasons. Some are practical. I have limited energy and time, so I decided at one point I needed to focus on one of my three favourite creative endeavours in order to put more into it. Singing involved being out at night when I'd rather be in. Art involved expensive materials. Writing, at that time, needed paper, and either a little manual typewriter and a ribbon or a pen, and could be done at any time of day.

I write because in writing I can think long and hard about what I want to say and play with it until I think I've got it right. I can say it indirectly and I can say it with a type of force I can't bring to normal conversation.

The inherited component is that my people have for long generations been fascinated with the magic of words, the beauty, the double meanings, the circuitous ways of saying what can't be directly said.

I write because I want one thing in my life to pour my passion into, and this is one I like and am good at.

I write because it's fun. Because I feel free and buoyant and can spin in the treetops even while being rooted in the earth. I LIKE that.

I _show_ my writing because I like to see people go, Ah...

Casey

I'm having a problem right now. Writers block is real and I have it . How can five teenagers convince the police that a solid citizen is the master mind of a number of bank robberies? Any ideas? I would appreciate any help.
popcornmanw

On Scooby-Doo, they just pull off the mask...

Every now and then, after I've been staring at a blank screen for an hour, the words suddenly start to flow and I know that they're good: I'm really saying what I wanted to say. That's the best feeling in the world. Makes up for all the times when it's a struggle. I also identify with a lot of the ideas posted here already, especially about making sense of things, thinking about things long and hard and getting it right. So many times in real life, the words don't come out right, and I walk away from a conversation thinking, "If only I'd said...." When I'm writing, I can do what you can't do in life: press the delete key and start again, and maybe get it right the second, or third, or seventeenth time.

To popcornmanw: Sorry to hear about the writer's block. Maybe take a break from the story, write something else and come back to it with a fresh eye. Without knowing the plot details it's difficult for others to help - you're the best person to solve it. Could be they find evidence, photograph him, tape a conversation or something? Or maybe there's a twist and they find out it wasn't him after all - maybe one of the teenagers is the real mastermind, and he was framing the solid citizen to throw his friends off the scent. Lots of possibilities. You seem to like mysteries, so think of it as a mystery to solve :-) Good luck!

My book is a story that was on my mind for over 30 years. Was fortunate to meet a man a couple years ago who began as a mentor and soon after we started he asked to co-author our book. I had anticipated a wait of another ten years or so. It’s a story I felt had to be told. Hope it helps others to improve their lives in the future.

I'm in the editing stages of a sci fi thriller and in the beginning stages of an alternate history erotic pirate novel.

I write because I can't NOT write.

After sleepwalking through another day of parenting, errand running, housecleaning and slogging through the depression that has plagued me forever, I need Something.

Something that can keep away the sensation of drowning in the nothingness.

When I write I step into my character's skin and into the fire. My heart beats harder, my breathing shallows, sometimes my hands shake.

It's like a drug and I can't get enough.

When I'm writing I AM the character, I feel his pain, his joy, his anger. I feel ALIVE!

Is this what an addict feels like?

One can argue that my intense need to write and the fictional world I've created is a result of being unable to control anything in my life, from my sickly childhood when I wasn't allowed to do anything for fear of more sickness, to suffering the "Woman's Place" condition of the culture I grew up in.

I am, at present, what the people around me want me to be (mostly). But when I write I am who I want to be.

I've tried not to analyze it too deeply. I personally do not need to know why I write.

I just know that when I do, I am free.

#112 --

". . . being unable to control anything in my life, from my sickly childhood when I wasn't allowed to do anything for fear of more sickness, to suffering the "Woman's Place" condition of the culture I grew up in."

Sounds like my life. And I'm male. Perhaps someday women will get it through their heads that a "man's place" isn't a picnic; the grass isn't green when one sees it up close.

Try being eligible for the draft during wartime. That life-or-death choiceless oppression is imposed exclusively on men.

Message edited by its author, Jul 18, 2009, 7:50am.

Why do I write? I answer that two ways: #1: I write the stories I want to read. #2: I may as well.

#1: I have always made up stories, ever since I was very small. I didn't have just one "imaginary friend" - my imaginary friends were the entire cast of the Lone Ranger, the Roy Rogers show and Bonanza. (Though I write fantasy, there are always lots of horses in my stories!)

Which brings me to #2. I may as well, because I will make them up anyway and hate myself for not writing them down, and it's not like I have a family to worry about. (Writing the stories down is harder than just having them in your head, but more satisfying and real)

Now what is behind these two answers and why all the storytelling? My childhood sucked nails and I've never had many friends. I still don't. I can't even make friends on the internet. I guess that's why I still have my imaginary friends. Writing is the outlet for my lonliness and the feeling that my childless life is not without meaning, even if I am the only one who cares about it. I can confront my lousy mother, rail against the horrors of drugs and alcohol, explore the realms of sex, immorality, faith and hope, the dispointment of my familial relationshps, whatever I want, and all on the page. No one can stop me. No one (except my internal editor) can tell me I am no good and don't measure up. And when it's good, it's soooooo good.

So that's why I write.

Message edited by its author, Apr 9, 2009, 1:33pm.

I've actually been telling stories my entire life. When I was a toddler I'd draw pictures that'd be telling something, something would be happening. I believe that I was born to do it, and to this day I still create stories. Though beyond that, I do it cause I love it. its such a challenging thing for me, there is so much to learn and so much room to improve on! and when the story is finished and you are happy with it, it is a truly satisfying experience, in the end.

I love stories, I love creating characters and situations for them, and seeing where they go.

H.L. Mencken:
"I go on writing for the same reason that a cow goes on producing milk."

I write because I have characters banging around in my head all the time. I also write to help my writer friend with his characters. I write as a hobby. I write because I truly enjoy creating little moments in time with my characters.

I write to share my stories with people and to perhaps bring them some emotional enjoyment or enlightenment.

Jackie K Cooper
www.jackiekcooper.com

I was taught to write with a simple question. What matters? It's the simplest question but one of most important jumping off points to writing something that matters to me. To anyone.

I find that writing is far less about telling stories that are unique to only you, understandable from only your perspective- and far more about telling stories from your perspective which can be understood thematically by anyone. What matters? The most simple question. Dreaming in Daylight is the book that answers that question for me.

A story told about a time that I don't live in, from a perspective I know nothing about. It's almost reminiscent of Geek Love or Water For Elephants or some of the earlier Delmore Schwartz novels. Goodbye, Columbus even comes to mind. Its a deep rich tale that makes me want to write about what matters.

Because it's part of me. I can't handle not writing - on a particular psychiatric medication (I'm bipolar) I had writer's block for 18 months straight, and it drove me right up the wall. I've been writing stories and poetry of varying length (yes, and varied quality) since I was four years old - I can't imagine NOT doing it.

I write because it helps me organize my thoughts. I write fiction because it forces me to look at things from a unique perspective, trying to make my stories parallel or possibly dissect issues in society and life. As I write, I learn things about myself and about life. For me, it encourages me to open my mind and to learn things. I also agree with archery girl that if I don't get the stories down on paper, they fester in my mind and distract me, to my great annoyance. Writing has done more to encourage my progress as a human being than anything else, even reading. Plus, I just love to write.

This topic is opening up new insights for me, about why I write, and reassurance that my experiences are not mine alone.

Many times, there is some idea, value or quality, I want to explore. Or there is something going on in life that nags, nudges and pesters me until I understand it. And then the ahas come and I want to frame it with words.

As several of you have observed, writing grows us as human beings. :)

There are other reasons. Writing is at my own pace, my own time, and every step must be orchestrated properly. Personally I think our society is way too fast... and writing can be something that takes lots of time. With writing, you can keep at it until you have framed the thoughts to your satisfaction, as deeply or widely as you feel appropriate.

Even deeper, I seek a spiritual/uplifting core quality which needs to be brought to light.

Thanks, I feel really peaceful right now after reading this thread.

To change my world, and by that means change the world.

JNagaraya...

perhaps that is the truth that underlines all of the 120+ comments mentioned before. Perhaps we are all trying to change our own worlds that it might make the larger world better.

Well, good luck to you. Sometimes changing one's own world is not as simple as it seems...

# 107 --popcornmanw

That's not really writer's block -- it's just a story plot problem. But that doesn't make it any less difficult to get past.

However, a few things came to mind. First, you don't need all the police to believe them at first. You only need one to have a reason to doubt the solid citizen to start things moving in the right way.

My first thought was that the police officer had a partner who might have gotten too close to the truth and got framed for a robbery. Partner never believed he was guilty, but the one framed wouldn't tell him the truth for fear he'd find himself in trouble, too. Maybe he'd been coming closer to the truth and something the five tell him clicks into place.

My second thought was that they weren't believed, but now Master Mind feels he needs to do away with these five before they do get someone to listen to them. By putting them in danger, at least one of the police believes that they are telling the truth.

One of the five has a connection to the police? An aunt or uncle, a cousin, a step-parent -- someone who does not have to believe them at face value, but might be intrigued into checking into it farther.

They get the help of someone outside the police force to present the truth to the police. A reporter would be the obvious one for that sort of thing, I think. Or, since they're teens, a teacher might work.

Anyway, maybe one of these ideas will spark something that works within the framework of your story!

Ha. Didn't see how old that post was -- just caught my attention.

Well, you never know. It might still help.

#124 --

One changes one's world by participating in it. That makes waves.

Because for as long as I can remember I've been making up stories. No, really, I don't know why that is, but it's the way my brain works, and as I get older the stories get more and more complex. Because it amuses me. Because I like entertaining other people. Because language is beautiful, and I love playing with it. Because speculative fiction can explore the meaning of humanity, or just give someone a good couple of hours' reading. Because if I didn't, I'd be bored out of my mind.

Writing is a disease. It just happens to you.

I write because I need to. I feel the happiest and most complete when I put pen to paper. I feel like it is HUGE part of who I am and it has helped to set myself apart from my peers.

#129 --

"Writing is a disease . . . ."

For decades I thought it a "disease" ("dis-ease"?), or symptomatic of a disease. Now I think it is the antithesis of neurosis.

It absorbs one in the present, a release from the fantasies that are past and future. It is living the moment instead of reacting to anxiety.

#130 --

Writing is rewriting.

Re/writing is thinking on paper.

Thinking sets one apart from one's peers by its re-reflecting upon and perhaps objectifying reality.

I write because his friendship allowed me to see all I was capable of doing, loving, living, and laughing.

#128, #130

BUT WHY? Those don't truely answer the deeper why.

133> Perhaps the 'deeper why' for many of us is that we are compelled to do so, without reason, and in spite of the other activities to which we might wish to devote our attention.

I love to work on projects in my shop, I love to expand my knowledge of the guitar to the blues aspects that I have admired for so long, and I love to work on the many other creative endeavors that fill my heart and mind.

However, before I even make a cup of tea in the morning, or perform my AM ablutions, I am brought to my computer to press the 'ON' button, so that I can begin my day by 'putting to paper' those thoughts with which I fell asleep and then awakened, hours later. Even as I have my hand on the doorknob, to go to the gym for a refreshing workout, I am pulled back to this electronic machine, to flesh out a new chapter of one of my books, and there is nothing I can do to stop this. Nor would I, upon reflection. It is me, and there is no other way I can be, if I wish to have some hold on my sanity.

Does this help?

Message edited by its author, Nov 2, 2009, 7:17pm.

I was posed the following question this morning by EnriqueFreeque: Why do you write, Peter? Not a flip question. I'm truly curious to understand what drives you to write today, and what drove you to persevere for thirty years to see your novel's completion.

On the thread:

http://www.librarything.com/topic/77721

My answer: I wasn't sure myself, Enrique. I had a psychological explanation going back to when I was a boy, always behind in school, particularly in English, and struggling to prove myself. And I had an innate explanation: who I am; an internal need to express myself.

But you're always hearing how people have to do this or that, that writers write because they have to, and I was fed up with not getting published and with the futility of writing in a vacuum (because a writer needs an audience). So one winter about ten years ago, having put aside the latest iteration of I Think, Therefore Who Am I? for a while, and having finished work on a mystery, which I was sure would also go nowhere, I decided to see if it was true that I "had" to write.

So I stopped, cold turkey, resisted the urge to jot ideas down when they occurred--to let them die, rather than seeing if they went anywhere. Aside from my professional editing, I did simple, nonintellectual things: mainly split wood (from the two cords I had that year) so the pieces could fit into my smallish woodstove, made fires every afternoon and evening, and left the stove door open so I could watch the flames, and watched them dance all winter (which used to last six months around here). And didn't write a thing.

Here's what I discovered: I needed to write because if I didn't, I had no outlet for my internal dialogues and went a bit crazy. Perhaps if I were a more social person and had friends to whom I could have talked, the result of my empirical experiement would have been different. But at this point in my life I find it easier to write than make friends.

However, I also discovered I needed that fallow period--that when I began to write again, working out the rust, then plunging back in, I was exploding with energy to do it, which I hadn't been before.

So, the answer is: I can't say for sure why I write, but I know what happens to me when I don't.

Message edited by its author, Dec 4, 2009, 8:45am.

I write because all my life I was never really good at anything. They say everyone has one thing they're really good at. I was kinda good at a lot of things but that wasn't enough to build my self esteem. It took me 21 years to find my 'thing'.

Writing keeps me feeling human, even if I'm writing utter crap and it makes no sense I'm putting pen to paper. It also gives me a sense of belonging when I hear people groan about an term paper that is due when it just comes easy to me. People now come to me for help. It gives me human interaction where I'm too insecure to do it myself. I've never had a best friend because of that. Writing is not only helping me cope with my life's insecurities but I enjoy it and I'm proud of it.
Writing gives me something to be proud of myself for. It gives me courage.

Well, here are my two red pennies....my mind is investigative, it longs to look, wonder, and maybe solve although once that is accomplished it's over. Can we ever allow it to be over? Hardly that is why I continue to write and write too. I'm curious, a strategizer and this is dire for story writing, everything I think comes out in rhymes too, so I often write poems and amphorisms. These come out without the use of thinking. To see things as a whole one needs to gather up the hidden pieces and make something of it, a challenge for those inclined. Most of my ideas come when I am half asleep not while I am thinking. Thinking is for fixing grammar. I write for curiousity's sake, I just can't wait to see where the characters lead me...what they become on their own. I love to write screenplays, to SEE everything and practice out loud. Writing is a JOY for creative people not a chore. I write because I write.

This is a wrapper for my introduction, as I just joined now.
Nice to meet you.

PS to Ranaverde:

- Because I want to change the world

- Because if I don't write things down, I forget them

Both of these are my spit and image. I have folders full of notes, ideas, inventions and can never get to them. I am a slow slow reader and never remember what I don't write down either. And I feel too as if I have a calling to embed messages in my writing to change the world.

Message edited by its author, Dec 9, 2009, 12:05pm.

We seldom get the reality we want and never for long. When I'm writing, I'm not bound by that bleak knowledge.

By the way, "spit and image," or "spitting image" are variations of the original phrase "spirit and image," meaning likeness.

I write when my voice cannot take the stress of talking.