Five years ago — yes, five — I actually published on this blog a four-post series that explored the reasons I wrote. I called the posts, “The Whys and Wherefores of It.” (See Parts 1, 2, 3 and 4.) This time I enrolled in a course over at Blogging University, and Day One has me facing that question again: Why do I write?
I’ve decided to answer the question on free-write mode, and later compare the consequent post to the ones I wrote in 2011.
I write because I believe I have something to say that is worth “putting on paper,” so to speak, and possibly even worth reading by others.
I write because it’s therapeutic to me to document my thoughts, and helpful (on top of being nostalgic), cathartic, even, to be able to read and relive later the way my younger self processed and understood things and life. Recording myself through writing is in itself a way for me to thresh out and make sense of my world. By my writings, too, I am able to chronicle and track my growth as a person.
I write because I simply love putting words next to each other, I love weaving small and big pieces of me through words, and I love how with the right words I am able to create material that is of consequence to me and that may reach and affect another human being (in a positive way, I hope).
I write because I need to.
I write because I believe I actually express myself much better in writing than in speech. I am hardly articulate, am not a good conversationalist, not a quick thinker who can spew witticisms at the snap of my fingers. I can write without inhibition about how I think and feel about anything, though. In writing I can dive into the farthest recesses of my introspection and return to the surface with pearls I never even realized had been forming. Or something of the sort.
I am my truest self when I write. So I simply cannot not do it.