Why Do I Write?

The ninth life, asked the question, Why Do You Write?  That is a complex question to ask my fogged brain on a lazy Sunday; and how do I answer it?  Is it even possible to answer it simply?

My writing most likely began because I read at an early age; I can hardly remember a time that I could not read.

Since I began reading so young, I’ve written things, since I was young. Stories that at times had teachers scratching their heads and noting on my papers, “Imaginative.”  Now a days, they’d probably send me to the school psychiatrist to make sure I wasn’t a danger to others.

In my teens I wrote to get out the things that I hid in my heart.  Those things were unheard and that I felt no one wanted to hear.  I wrote novels of poetry. That poetry was mostly of pubescent love and heartache. The majority of poems were worthy of the burn pile but, I did keep a few of the more credible pieces.  One piece worth keeping, I copied for anyone in my graduating class who asked me to sign their yearbook. Apparently, it wasn’t awful because not long ago, I heard from one classmate who said that over the years he looked for my books that he knew I would be publishing. What a compliment. I wish I knew that years ago.

I quit writing about the time I quit music.  It was too painful, I was not talented, blah blah blah.  I listened to the wrong people and gave them too much credit.  That’s what happens when your life support system is weak, you give up the things that bring you hope and joy.

A lifetime later, after plenty of stops and starts, I needed to voice out what was going on in my life.  I was living with my mom and she had signed up for hospice.  I needed a place to vent louder then a journal, so I deemed blogging appropriate. I thought  I could vent about me, mom and our life but I also thought that I might give and receive insight into the world of caregiving. That is what started this blog and a resolute commitment to writing. And, some joy returned with writing.

I am a wordsmith. My work is nothing fancy and I am no intricate crafter of words because I write how I think and speak. To some I may sound simple but writing is a craft that needs to be honed. To improve I must write. I will never be a Plath, Austin or Shakespeare, but this simple gal can get her ideas across, and that works for me.

Simply put, I write because I feel. I feel big. I write because I need to get the words out.  If my words make you think, feel, or promote action, that is wondrous.  I did my job well.


Tell me why you write.  Either post a comment or post a link to your blog explaining.


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  1. #1 by Paula on September 6, 2015 - 10:16 am

    You gave me goose bumps with your words here. You convey your message simply and without pretense. You made me feel what you feel. Only a true wordsmith can do that. You have my deepest respect.
    Carry on…

    Liked by 1 person

  2. #3 by bluestempond on September 7, 2015 - 6:16 am

    Great question to ponder! I write in a journal to clear out my cluttered mind and get on with things. I write in my blog to connect with other people who find a resonance with me and my experiences. I love the unexpected joy of finding kindred spirits out there that I’d never have met without a blog … and never will actually meet except on the written page.

    Liked by 1 person

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