Why I Write

You would think that a person becomes a writer because they have something they believe the world wants to read. Right? They probably have lots of self-esteem and are very secure in their belief they are writing something of worth. Wrong. That just isn't the way of it. I can only speak for myself, of course, but in communicating with other writers, I've found they, too, are just as surprised and thrilled when someone compliments one of their works, praises them, or spontaneously promotes one of their books.

Writing can be a sometimes vicious cycle. I put my heart and soul into a story, edit and format until I'm sure it's just what I wanted to say, design a cover that I hope looks good, and release it to the rest of the world. Then I sit and figuratively chew my nails to the quick, constantly check the sales, tentatively look at any reviews, and wonder why I even bothered to put a piece of myself out there and subject it to ridicule.

A four or five star rating, with or without a review, can send me into the throes of ecstasy, just as a one star rating can absolutely crush me and make me vow to never write another word. It's like being bipolar on steroids. That may not be a pretty picture, but try living it.

So why would I even bother to write, you ask? Why put myself through that? Aside from the fact I seem to like being a glutton for punishment, I write because I feel the need to share the stories and characters that run through my head. I've tried to ignore that part of myself, refusing to do nothing more than make a few notes or let a story play out in my head. The feeling is horrible; like I'm ignoring a necessary part of me. And, once I've written something, it's just as compelling that I release it and let others read the story.

That's why I write. Because I have to. Because it's no more a choice than breathing. I'm not alone in feeling this way. I read an article where Stephen King related an incident that happened to him. A woman approached him and asked how he could write such horrific things. (I'm paraphrasing here since I don't remember the exact words) Mr. King responded with "What makes you think I have a choice?"