Why I write

By Julie

I wrote this piece a year or two ago as a timed writing assignment for a class with Barbara Samuel, now also writing as Barbara O’Neal. A fabulous author, Barbara also teaches occasional online classes about finding your writer's voice and about the emotional aspects of writing. We spend most of our learning time as writers focused on craft, when nurturing the soul and discovering our calling and place in the world of writing is just as important. I highly recommend taking one of Barbara's classes, joining an Artist's Way class in your area or online, or finding something similar that works for you. I tweaked this a bit, but most of what I originally wrote remained true.

I write, simply, because I have to. When I don't write, I feel as if I’m wandering, lost in a cloud that hovers over a grey, drizzly world. Sometimes even when I write, I feel as if the world is grey and drizzly, but the writing helps me cope.

I write because I'm good at it. It makes me feel like I have worth as a creative, growing person. I read what others write and think, “Yeah, I can do that. Maybe I can even do it better.”

I write because my brain is like an auditorium full of people chattering, crying, and laughing about what’s going on in their lives, and writing helps me get it down. In the middle of their noise, I find stories crying out to be told. (Nope, I haven't been diagnosed yet.)

I write because I get bored in my world. It can be routine and repetitive, and I need stimulation. My brain needs to be actively engaged in thinking about people and who they are and why they do the things they do.

I write because I want approval, often. I'm trying to get past this, but there it is. When I write, I want to show it to someone and hear them say, “Wow! This really makes me think. You're very talented.”

I write because I'd love to make enough money to do this job for the rest of my life. I’d rather write for a career than anything else I can imagine. Anything else seems like putting in time until I die or the world comes to an end, whichever comes first. I’d rather do something that keeps me interested and engaged than something just to receive a paycheck. Paying the bills with writing money would be a nice perk.

I write because everything seems to come across the lens of my brain as a framed photo or a vignette of sorts, telling me I need to record it. I believe most days I notice things many others don't have the capacity to notice, or would just as soon ignore. It makes me happy when I see that chunk of type, telling the story nobody else might have bothered to write down.

I write because objects and events are rarely simply things I can take at face value. They make me think of other things, that make me think of other things, that make me think of other things. Everything is a catalyst. I see one shape, and it reminds me of another. I hear one story, and I’m off and running with another. The only way to make sense of any of these things is to capture them with my pen.

I write because it keeps my monsters at bay. The ones that tell me I’m not talented enough or gifted enough or that I’m not much good at anything else. The ones that tell me I should sleep all day.

I write to live, and live to write. It's nearly as easy as breathing, though some days, I wonder why the words won't flow. On those days, or in those weeks or months at a time, I feel as if I’m holding my breath, floating just below the surface, when I’m supposed to burst from the water in a brilliant ray of light.

I write because I write, and the more I write, the more I write.

Now you. Why do you write? Take ten minutes and write without stopping. Be honest. It's for you! If you want to post it on your blog, leave us a comment with a link.

Getting Lucky

By Susan

Sometimes, if I get lucky when I’m writing, something happens and I am in The Zone. It is hard to explain what this means: I just know that my pen flies across the paper, as though possessed. My hand can’t keep up with the images in my mind. Some times, when I read it later, I have no real memory of writing it.

On other occasions, I might wake in the middle of the night with a dream on the tips of my fingers and get up and write without a thought to what it may mean. I curl into my biggest chair and scribble away. Or if I am driving alone, I may be overtaken by an idea—a bud of a flower that demands instant water, food and sunlight. Sometimes it’s a fleeting thought, sometimes a complete sentence. Regardless, I am compelled to stop and take notice.

Elizabeth Gilbert (Eat, Pray, Love) refers to the Greeks and their daemons, to the Romans and their genius. Norman Mailer (The Naked and the Dead) called it The Spooky Art. Stephen King, the master at modern creative fiction, writes, “Your job isn’t to find these ideas. It’s to recognize them when they show up.”

So what is this thing, that when captured, can pour out of writers like magic? And what is it, that when absent, quite stereotypically drives writers to drink?

Therein lies the problem: it’s another story altogether when you summon the muse and she refuses to speak. Your fingers become clumsy, as though this is the first time you have ever attempted such a thing. I’ve sat for nights on end, waiting for something to appear on the page. I think back to my creative writing classes from 20 years ago, trying to remember a nugget of instruction to help me summon inspiration.

I buy books on writing (I have a full shelf of writers telling me how to write). Yet reading about writing, I have found, is not writing. Reading about not writing is never the cure for not writing. Just like the only cure for obesity is eating less and moving more, the cure for writers block is whining less and writing more. Just write.

Here are some exercises and suggestions that have helped me. (See? I am now a writer talking about writing to writers who are having a difficult time writing). Keep in mind that the key to all of this is just doing the work. You can write longhand or type, sitting or standing, it doesn’t matter. Just get the words out.

1) Begin a paragraph with the following sentence: “In my mind I see…” and take it from there. If you are working on a specific piece, put this in your character’s point of view. Write at least 200 words, more if you catch inspiration by the tail. One of my favorite pieces that I ever wrote started with this exercise.

2) Go stand outside and describe what’s out there. How’s the weather? (Hemingway said, “Remember to get the weather in your god damned book- weather is very important. “) How does the air feel: heavy and sticky, or brittle and cool? How will the weather affect your scene? If you are writing about a hurricane, don’t tell me it’s raining. I want to smell it, hear it and feel the hairs stand up on the back of my neck with the electricity of the storm. Don’t shortchange your readers by leaving something this crucial out of your work.

3) Working Papers- The Artist’s Way recommends journaling three pages each morning before you start the work of the day. Three pages of purging, I call it, shaking the leaves from your trees, shedding the dead skin cells before getting to the flesh of things. “I need to go to the store today,” Or, “I am worried about my mother.” Get these things out of your system before really working on your project. De-clutter your brain matter of all the things that are on your mind. Then you can find your story.

These three simple exercises may help, or they may not be for you. Remember that your writer’s block is your own—not mine, not Hemingway’s or Virginia Wolfe’s. Remember that your muse, too, belongs to you. Welcome her and don’t let her pass you by. At the same time, don’t curse her when she is somewhere else. Show up for the job whether your inspiration is there or not. And the words will appear, sometimes like blood from the pen, sometimes flowing like a Colorado stream. But show up. There is no easier way to fail at your novel than simply not writing it.