Tap. Tap. Tap. Stare at the white screen. Tap for fifteen minutes, stare at the screen for twenty. Writers are a rare breed of individuals who spend most of their time studying the marks on their ceiling, hoping the roof will fall down on them and crack their computer screen. Why do writers write? For money? We might as well be eating chocolate to lose weight. Maybe after a few years of chocolate eating we'll drop a pound or two, if we starve ourselves, and eat nothing else.
I can't say why other writers write, but this is why I write:
I write because I must. A little person inside of me kicks out logic and forces me to write. I think he enjoys watching me sweat and labor over words. Then after I've slaved for hours over a bloodstained screen, he says it's not good enough and makes me rewrite the whole thing again. At times I want to murder him, but I kind of like him. I suppose it's my own fault for letting him bully me.
I write because one smile, one tear, or one changed heart is a payment worth more than diamonds. One word can break a heart, one sentence can heal it, and one paragraph can make it whole. For those whose hearts are whole, I write to ease their load. This world is so sad, weary, and dark. I've given them a key to escape to another world. A little humor in the pot makes the troubles taste better.
I write because I'm a volcano erupting with ideas. About the time I think my well is dry, it soaks me like a geyser. I try to stop the leak with rags, but I have too many leaks and not enough towels. I hate wastefulness and I hate wasting ideas. My ideas need a place, and that place is on paper.
I write because my mouth doesn't like to talk. I could bellow for an hour and still not be as loud as I am on paper. I'd rather write five words than say a thousand.
I write because it's raining, I write because it's not. I write because dinosaurs have gone extinct, time machines don't exist, and it needs to snow in Florida. Whatever the reason, I'll write, and if there isn't a reason, I'll make one. But out of all my million reasons, one remains. It will make me write even when nothing else will. It's the reason I draw. It's the reason I bake. It's the reason I live. Whether I'm a singer, dancer, or mechanic, glorifying God is the reason I keep
Mariposa is a self-taught artist who captures the glories of God's creation on canvas. She has a Ph.D. in creativity and a masters degree in imagination.
Aberdeen is a book-eating, ink-drinking dinosaur from the createtus period. When he isn't falling into plot holes or taking cover from the volcano of ideas, he's hanging out with Dee-Dee the doodledactyl. Read full bio