Getting to the point of it…

This week, I wrote more than 20,000 words in my new book, The Day We Said Goodbye. The new book is my third memoir, the last of the series, that talks about the events surrounding my father’s memorial service including the mental health issues I dealt with at that time.
My dad’s memorial was on August 23, 2008 but I didn’t really have any idea what I would write about until last May, nearly four years later. And then, the idea of the book about a middle-aged man travelling to attend his dead father’s memorial struck me as interesting. So, I decided to write it.
Usually, when I write books I do so with a clear idea as to why I’m writing it. This has nothing to do with what the book’s about or what point it’s making. I’m referring to why I’m writing it for me or what I can get out of it. After all, there’s little reason for me to write something if I don’t get any benefit.
And it wasn’t until this week, after five marathon days of writing, that I began to understand just why I am writing The Day We Said Goodbye. That’s right. It’s just in time, too, because I’ll finish the first draft next week.
Why, then? I realized that one of the things this book does is show exactly how I became the writer I am today.
Mind you, I was a writer a month before my dad died. This isn’t about how I became a writer but how I turned into the kind of person I was and how I learned from my dad’s passing, in some direct and indirect ways, how to become the writer I am. Because now I write optimistic self-help pieces and philosophy pieces, now I take chances and I write without regret.
That is not the kind of writer I used to be.
But it is the kind of writer I am.
And I am glad I came to understand this before I finished the whole thing.