Why do You Write?

Today’s post is presented in a form called Lyric Essay that I was introduced to a creative writing teacher.

A Friday Q & A

Q: I return again and again to what I consider the most basic of personal questions, yet at the same time perhaps the toughest to answer. The question is, Why do you write? You could have done anything else—paint, do brain surgery, grow gardens, whatever—but you chose to write. Why?

A. That question haunts me. But, it also reminds me that all writers write from the same place—a wound. Kathryn Harrison says, “I write because it’s the only thing I know that offers the hope of proving myself worthy of live” (p. 71). Life goes on, but our shattering wounds are there. Everywhere we go. Everywhere we went.

Q. How does the process of writing help you?

A. I write to find my voice. I write to make sense of the world. I write to figure out the crazy things people do. I write as a way to process my disasters, sort out the messiness of life. Creatives, and I’m using that as a noun, see their world slightly skewed. We’ve been exposed to things that have pained our souls.

Q. Why do you write?