I once wrote the words ‘I do not write because I must. I write because I can.’
Like being able to whistle, or sing, or do cartwheels, it was fun to do for its own sake, and a pleasure to share with others.
I’ve done it so often, and for so long, I’ve become a bit of a word junkie; I get irritable and out-of-sorts when I’m not writing and am only at peace when I am. I don’t dwell too much on the why – it feels good, it’s not illegal, so why not?
I am fascinated, though, by what motivates others to spend long hours alone at a keyboard or with notebook on knee…
‘The act of putting pen to paper encourages pause for thought, this in turn makes us think more deeply about life, which helps us regain our equilibrium.’ Norbet Platt
‘Why do writers write? Because it isn’t there.’ Thomas Berger
Anais Nin echoes that thought: ‘The role of a writer is not to say what we all can say, but what we are unable to say.’
Vita Sackville-West takes a more existential view: ”It is necessary to write, if the days are not to slip emptily by. How else, indeed, to clap the net over the butterfly of the moment? For the moment passes, it is forgotten; the mood is gone; life itself is gone. That is where the writer scores over his fellows: he catches the changes of his mind on the hop.’
‘Writing is a craft, an art, a gift, a revelation; it is also often challenging and lonely work. And that is just the start…’ Irina Dunn, The Writer’s Guide