Why Write?

Why breathe? Since the age of nine, I liked creating: stories, poems, and smiles. With each word written, bringing smiles to others’ faces enthralled me. I thought, “Did I do that?” before the character, Steve Urkel, existed. I joined essay and oratorical contests. I wrote poems and stories for school newspapers and literary journals with glee.

But, years passed and I lost myself in time’s sauce. While I majored in journalism and earned my Bachelor’s, creative writing fell to the wayside and I favored nonfiction and reality. I favored these subjects wholeheartedly, switching to education and teaching.

Good and bad move. I taught Kindergarten, First grade, and high school English. By teaching children to create, I taught myself by giving students skills to write I still wrote technically.

Technically does not count.

Creative writing counted. Creating nonexistent stories where I saw myself, or people like me, needed life. Yes, I sound presumptuous, as if I alone will change writing and the book world. Why not add to a world I love? I buy, chat about, and review them. Why exclude writing them? It’s simple.

By thirty-eight, I decided to reconnect with a love I cherished since elementary school.

Enough is enough.

I bought a new laptop, joined a writer’s group, and acquainted myself with writers.

So, my writing life began…

With life’s bumps here and there (e.g. family, writer’s block, self-doubt), I continue to create and inspire.

Maybe in my own head…

Maybe in the people I meet…

By forty, my resolve strengthened.

Do I have the right – er, write – stuff?

I better damn believe I do.

Image Credit – Gerrel Saunders

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