Why I Love Writing
Writing makes me feel real.
I started writing inside my head before I went to school. When I finally learned my letters, I was able to write down those first gleanings. Then I started writing small articles for children’s magazines, and then letters to the editor of adult publications. From there I graduated to short stories and articles, and somewhere along the way, I became a professional writer.
Badly paid, mostly. Unpaid sometimes. and well-paid other times. Payment has been a mixed bag. At times I’ve asked myself why I continue to write. It’s not the best way to earn a living.
Yet write, I do.
It’s a compulsion.
At anytime of the day or night, there are words forming inside my head. They demand to come out. If I don’t write them down, they won’t go away. I’ve read now and then that other writers also have this word download inside their heads, and, like me, they have to write it down.
Sometimes when I’ve completed writing something, I feel as if a load has been lifted from my shoulders. It’s done. It’s complete. Other times, as I write, I enter into the zone, and when I’m finished, I feel elated. Always I feel as if I’ve had a heart to heart talk with someone. Perhaps writing is the way I talk to myself.
