Why Do You Write?

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Why Do You Write?

must haves Since my retirement in 2006, people often ask what I do with my free time. I stop and think, and I try to imagine free time! I don’t seem to have much of that even in retirement. Then I mentally list for myself all that fills my time: mentoring, writing, flute lessons, quilting, sewing, needlework of all kinds, reading . . . and oh, yes, there’s my family . . . children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Sigh . . . like a young mother with a large brood I suddenly feel tired after that mental exercise.

So, I opt to give a shortened list of things I truly enjoy, and at the mention of writing invariably the question is, “Why do you write?”

First the answer to “why?” Simple: I love words, grammar, and the part each plays in creating a story, reporting facts and history, and even in the reading I do. I just love words and all that makes them a part of anything written.

My second answer is that I love to write those words down, either by hand or on the computer. I love bringing words together in sentences, then paragraphs to create a gift for someone else of the written word. How, with all the reading I do, could I not want to give the gift I have received so many times to others? When I read, authors transport me to places in history, they take me on journeys of the mind, they teach me things I’d never thought about before. Truly books and stories are gifts to those who read them.

The third reason is that ink runs in my veins. That’s right — not blood but ink. My dad was in the printing and publishing business. From early childhood, I could smell the print shop on him when he arrived home in the evening. Even when he moved into management, Dad loved being “back in the shop” with the typesetters.

dad-at-work Here he is sitting at a linotype machine in the shop. He loved what he did, and he had a great deal of his life story tied to printing and publishing. Some day there’s another book to write, I suppose.

Dad was also an avid reader, and together we would read things he’d brought home from work. Later, as I grew older, we’d talk about them. I think perhaps that common love we had for printed matter strengthened the bond between us.

As blunt as it may sound, I write because I have to write. A day without writing is a day void of joy and pleasure. I never realized this until after retirement, at which time I thought, “I never want to sit in front of a computer again!”

How wrong I was in making that statement. The sitting in front of a computer that I’d been doing for decades was to type pleadings in a case for an attorney, or to draft up legal documents. It wasn’t writing for the pure joy of it.

Now, I write because I want to, I enjoy it, and yes, I have to write. And now you’re next question likely is why do “I have to write.”

And the answer to that is that I have a story (perhaps more than one) that either needs or deserves telling. No one can tell that story but me because it is personal to my life. Others created through my imagination will also be mine to tell.

If I don’t write, will they ever be told? Likely not. So, I write. I write something every day, either on my work in progress, a short essay or story for a competition or in answer to a call for submission, or for one of my blogs.

Do you have a story or perhaps stories to tell? Are you writing them down? It doesn’t mean that you’re striving for publication, but perhaps just leaving stories for your children and grandchildren to enjoy in the future and pass along to others in the family.

Think about it . . . try it . . . you too may find joy in writing.