The Hardest Question I’ve Been Asked as a Writer

I was asked the easiest question a couple of days ago: Why do you write? My answer was a pause followed by a long silence. Umm . . . wow. Why do I write? When I stopped and thought about it, I couldn’t even put it into words at first. Then, when it started to come together, I realized that the whole thing is absolutely insane. Take your most intimate ideas and throw them out there for the world to critique. Go ahead—not only tell people about the movies constantly playing in your head, but translate them into words and see what everybody thinks. Good plan.

That being said, I HAVE to write—it’s not a choice. If I didn’t write, forget the idea of writing itself being insane; I would definitely go crazy. So, I guess that leads me to the first part of my answer. Stories are gifts and gifts are meant to be shared, plain and simple. The next reason I do it is to get people thinking about those wonders in life I contemplate all the time: fate and chance, life and death, love and purpose. For me, those thoughts have so much meaning; it’s what life comes down to. And lastly, I think it’s to make you feel. It’s what those of us who believe love conquers all live for: that journey that drags you through the tears and rewards you with a smile when all the pieces fit together perfectly in the end.