Why I Write
Why I write.
The short answer is quite simple: I have no choice.But that's not the answer you're looking for. The long answer, since you asked, is complex, but not complicated.I write because writing allows me to make sense of the world, of this existence. Writing is the one act that permits me the freedom to tell you my thoughts about the human condition, but more importantly, it allows me to tell "me" my thoughts about the human condition. I, like the rest of us, have a curious mind. I wonder why it is we are here. What is our purpose? What is the extent of our existence? And how best can we learn to live together with each other and with the other elements of the natural world. If there's one thing we can count on, it's that life is full of constant change. I'm fine with the fact that everything is in constant flux. Growing up, I had the opportunity to call numerous places home. I had to learn to make new friends and understand the process of friendship. I don't claim to be an expert at it, hell, to this day I consider myself a novice with regard to relationships. This world, the only one we have, has existed long before us. And it will probably exist long after we are gone. Even with all our technological wonder, all our advances in medicine, all our knowledge of natural phenomena, we still continue to marvel at the mystery that the world presents to us. There's so much we don't know, and it's out there for us to discover. We all wish to understand this world. To make sense of the joy and wickedness we experience, to live out our lives to their fullest. Since the dawn of our existence, storytellers have been among us. Our stories once existed in the oracular tradition, and yet, today with multimedia stories, we still seek the same answers to our questions. The fundamental questions. The questions that get us closer to the answers we all seek. I'm no different than you and seek the answers you want too. I want to make sense of the world, of our existence. For me, the way to do it is through expressing myself freely. Free expression is an inherent characteristic of humanity. We are all born with sucking, grasping and a desire to express our individuality. Our will. How we choose to do it is up to us. But the desire serves that same purpose. It's a mechanism for us to make sense of the world. I choose to do it in writing. Whether I had an audience or not, I'd still write. I've also painted before, and I still take pictures. But primarily I write. It is my personal mechanism for gathering the troops and taking on the mysteries of existence. Why do we love? What are the many facets of love? Why do we hate? Why envy? I'm interested in these questions, and numerous more. I'm interested in the infinite ways that we respond to these questions. Why one individual's answers are distinct, and diametrically opposed to another individual's answers. Even maternal twins, individuals with exact copies of one another's DNA, are different. Encountering different viewpoints, encountering answers that surprise us, that scare us, and are different from our answers can help us figure out our individual answers. For, we may not agree, but through my interaction with you, I may strengthen my answers, or I may be convinced that my answer was wrong and see some truth in your answer. We've all hear that writers have a "god complex." It's true. Storytellers enjoy creating lives that they can play with like Olympian deities. Characters let us present different viewpoints to the answers we seek. Their interactions in an imaginary milieu allow the storyteller to get those answers he seeks. Or if not the answers, then to get closer to the answers. I want to be close to the answers. In fact, I need to make sense of the world. At times I feel that I'd probably loose my mind if I did attempt to make sense of it. And I'm not proud to claim that my answers are the truth or even remotely resemble the truth. But they are answers none the less. The adventure to find those answers is not an easy one. I've never expected the journey to be easy, or expect that it will ever get easy. Part of what we storytellers do is research. It's a requirement of the job. I'm not speaking of research like browsing the Web. Research can easily take that form, and it's often the starting point for us all here in the 21st century. I'm not even speaking about simply reading some non-fiction books on a subject or question we have which continues to nag us. Though research of this form is certainly enriching. I'm talking about the deep exploration that we storytellers must do by examining our own lives, our individual experiences, our tragedies, our hopes, our desires, and discovering the answers within our beings. The ugly, naked truths that are beneath years of calluses we've erected due to disappointments, heartbreak, or foolishness. We've all done stupid things in our lives; actions or decisions we're not proud of. It's typically not until many years later that we figure out why we actually did what we did in that situation. For writers, the act of writing is how we get those answers. The challenge is that many things cannot be accurately represented in words. Feelings. So there's the challenge. We use words as a primary form of communication, yet it's difficult to express what we mean with words. I know there are other forms of expression that serve the same purpose of granting us the channel to express the answers we seek: dance, music, art. But, words, written and verbal, remain our primary form of expression. It's the duty of writers to take these syntactic constructs and conjure works of art to marvel and amaze, to entertain and fundamentally provide us with the answers we seek. This is what I aim to do. And this is why I write.Hey, you asked for the long answer!Now go seek out your answers.
