Why do you write?

I write because it’s liberating. With simply a pen and a piece of paper, I can express how I feel, create an entire world, communicate thoughts, and make sense of whatever is whirling around inside my skull. Mostly, I write for myself; most of what I write is not put out into the world.

There was a time when I wanted to be better known for my writing. I would endlessly check my stats, hoping that my readership was growing. While I still check my stats when I need a quick fix, my objective is different now. These days, I’m just happy with writing something and hitting publish.

I’m trying to take the pressure off of writing. I don’t have the same desire to publish a book, to make enough money from my writing to survive, or for too many people to see what I’m writing about. I still share, but worry less about the result. I’m just letting it simmer, hoping it’ll stew at its own pace.

Even still, I can’t go a day without putting pen to paper. Every morning, I start my day with coffee and morning pages. If I do no other writing in a day, I’ve done that much. Oddly, I don’t consider it writing anymore. It’s similar to how I was told that all of the walking I do during the day as part of my job doesn’t count toward my exercise minutes because my body has become accustomed to it. My morning pages are part of my every day.

I do want to write more, though. I want to finish a few things I’ve started and publish more blog posts. This Bloganuary thing is helping with that. I can’t think like I used to and writing has become quite difficult. I’m trying to read more to help correct this.

Writing is wonderful and it’s something I can see changing and warping in front of my eyes. My students have very little desire to write properly. Then, maybe the nature of writing is changing and I’m not keeping up with the times. This happened with my taste in music, too. I appreciate that a picture is worth a thousand words, but photographers are forever comparing pixel counts.


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