Why I Write

I originally posted this on in these small moments last Thursday, the day after our Twitter chat.

It opened an interesting dialogue and we thought it might be interesting to cross post it here to see what you all might like to add to the discussion. To see previous comments, click here.

Opening a Vein: Why I Write

Last evening, I was taking part in The Red Dress Club's Twitter Chat and my friend Cheryl tweeted this bit of wisdom...



...to which Denelle (who is a fabulous writer) replied...

Denelle's tweets made me feel a bit sick inside...like I'm some kind of fraud.

Because if I want to call myself a writer, shouldn't I want to write? Shouldn't I have to write?

But I don't. So I replied...



And as difficult as that is to admit to a group of writers that I admire, that is my truth.

I don't love writing.

But oftentimes, I love the final product.

I don't write because it feels good while I'm doing it.

I don't write because I am compelled to.

I write because I often don't know exactly what I'm thinking or feeling until I do.

Because I want my children to have these words...to know how central they were to my life.

I write in case I one day forget all of the joy this life has brought me.

But not because I enjoy it.

Because I really don't.

How about you?