Why do we write? I can’t speak for others, but for me, it’s because I couldn’t know anything else. To me, writing is life. Writing is the ultimate form of expression. When I write, I unlock another opening in the endless well of my imagination. My imagination is crackling with such fiery, powerful energy, racing with fragments of stories, of character voices, of quirky verses.
When I pull from these ideas and mold them into fully formed stories, I take the time to know the world of the story inside and out. Writers are interesting people. We see things no one else can—into alternative histories or viewing thousands of years into various futures. As masters of disguise, we can experience multiple levels of emotions, venture into several destinations–exotic gardens and starry skies, desolate planets, and imperial metropolises.
That’s what made me want to be a writer.
Growing up, my idea of fun was spending time in the library, lost among countless books, carrying out as much as I could. No matter how many tried to dissuade me, telling me all about the many aspiring writers who never really made it, of rejection letters and failed attempts, this would be my life.
To me, writers were superstar. Writers were wizards.
And that’s the way I saw my stories. As a writer, I was a resident of various worlds. All I do is observe the things that I see and write them down. That’s all writers are. We make films on paper. We are directors of prose.
As writers, we write because we are travelers and storytellers. We want to go anywhere and everywhere—always venturing, always observing, always recording.
And for me, that is why I write and, when I write, I could not be happier…