I had a conversation with a friend the other day. We were talking about how every writer knows exactly how hard writing is. How much it can suck, how it can drain your energy, drive you to the point of insanity and cause so much exhaustion and heartache that we collapse by the end of the day and wonder why the hell we ever thought we could do this.
Then we talked about why we still keep doing it, because if we’re all feeling whiny enough, writers mostly just talk to each other about the hard parts. But if the hard parts are all there is, then none of us should be writing at all. There has to be true, genuine love to balance out the parts we hate. So I’m here to declare my love of writing, and tell you why I love this strange, wonderful art-form so very much with all my heart.
Writing is the only thing I do just for me. As long as I’ve lived, it has been the only constant thing that, when I do it, makes me feel like I have a purpose, like I’m good at something, like there is something in my life that I’m meant to do. There have been other things that made me feel like this throughout my life, but the only thing to only come and never go, is writing.
Writing is how I process this world I live in. It helps me cope with the struggles, celebrate the joys and process the pain. Stepping into the shoes of other characters and taking on their view of the world, allows me to explore paths and views I never imagined. It helps me go down roads of possibilities that aren’t available to me in real life, but I get to travel them through my characters, through the lives they lead and the adventures they take.
Writing makes living feel less impossible. Living with mental health issues – and maybe even without, how would I know – can make every day feel impossible to get through sometimes. Knowing that I have writing makes me strong enough to keep going on those worst days. I remember that I have stories to write, and that my specific voice and style are required to tell them correctly, and if I wasn’t here, all these great stories would just be lost, floating around in space without anyone ever putting them on paper and sharing them with the world.
Writing is the only thing other than the people I love, that has kept me alive this long. I don’t know who I would be if I wasn’t a writer. And, honestly, I never want to find out.
I love writing. I love being a writer. I love to write.
Writing is a gift, and I will forever be grateful for it.
There you have it. That was my love letter to writing. If you have your own reasons for loving this wonderful gift of writing, feel free to share in the comments, I would love to hear what you have to say. Why do you love writing?
Oh, and you have any change to spare and feel the content might be worth it, please check out my Patreon page ❤ Much love to you even if you can’t!
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a novel to write.