Why I write

Welcome to February and Heart Month. I chose this shot because, in an odd way, it shows why I write. When people ask why I’m so committed to a writing life I joke that I write because, as second of ten kids, I could never get a word in edgewise at the dinner table. Besides, at that particular table I was smart enough to know that I had to eat quickly to survive, so in a way I do in fact live to write.
Back to the picture–I spent a lot of my life in the sky. My career in commercial aviation spanned forty years. I never worked a day of it. I loved every takeoff, every opportunity to soar among the clouds, every chance to stay aloft a little longer. Every landing came much too soon. For much of my life my heart was quite literally in the sky. So combining my two needs–to soar, and to be heard–I turned to writing. It occupies much of my day now, just as flying did for forty years. When the writing goes well it’s hard to tell the difference between the work of crafting words into sentences and flying. For those who wish to soar, who want to experience a marvelous life lived among the clouds and wind and weather, writing can provide that almost as well as taking off and playing among the clouds. Almost.