I write because I love stories and books so much I want to be part of them. I want to delight others the way books have delighted me all the days of my life. I want to live in that creative, magical zone I shared with my siblings during early games of pretend. I want to participate in the great literary conversation with those writers and books I admire.
I write because my dad was a writer and my mom’s family were storytellers; to write is to join them in a powerful tradition, to celebrate who we are as a family. Writing has been my one big dream since childhood. I saw the joy Dad had in writing, in reading his work to us, in being published. I knew the joy of the books that filled my shelves. I started reading at three, writing at four, submitting at fourteen, being published at sixteen.
I write in hopes that I will one day be able to support myself with my writing, and thus continue to live in close proximity to my family wherever they may roam. I have so many ideas, so many stories to tell, a lifetime would not be enough—but being a full-time writer would grant me some of that time. It would also give me more time to spend with family and on other hobbies and interests, time that currently goes to writing while I work full-time as a librarian. With the ability to set my own schedule, I’d also have more opportunities to spend precious time with family members based on their needs and schedules.
I write to transcend death. In addition to the possibility of my words living on after me, writing is a way to bring my memories vividly to life and commemorate many people and places I love–both those living, and gone. By sharing these with readers, by transferring my appreciation, these beloved ones may live on in the minds of others as well.
I write for immortality. I write to fight entropy and, like Orpheus, whose song lives on though his physical mission failed, I seek to bring back those I love who are dead, if only for a time, fleetingly, a ghost in the mind that haunts us all with love.
I write as the supreme expression of my soul. I write to create something that has never existed before, to touch other minds with the magic of all that is possible, the surprising wonder of all life has to offer—the bad with the good—the inspiration that is the source of life–that “Yes!” that leaps up inside you. Sparkling, making all your hair stand on end–that joy, that surge of delight that makes you leap up and shout “Yes!” at the end of a truly great book. My writing shall be the wand that touches your head and wakes you–alive in every cell, alive to the beauties of life–awaking in you that great Yes!