Why Do I Write?

Photo by Yannick Pulver on Unsplash

I am a writer. There’s no specific moment throughout my life that I can pinpoint as the exact moment my love of writing began, it’s just always been second nature for me. When I was a kid, I used to steal paper from my mum’s printer, staple them together, and then write a short and charming story on it, while making sure to leave space at the bottom for drawings. I still remember one of my first picture books, it was called “The Magic Man.” Looking back, I see now that it was a complete and utter rip-off of Dr. Suess’s The Cat in the Hat, but at the time, I felt like a creative genius.

When I was a bit older, I would buy notebooks and fill them up with nothing but stories. When I reached my teen years, I got my first laptop and was opened up to the wonderous world of Google Docs. I was amazed that I owned a never-ending notebook that I could write in for hours on end without worrying about my hand cramping up. And of course, English was always one of my favourite subjects at school, and the one I got the best grades in.

Despite all of this, I was always just a casual writer; someone who wrote for fun from time to time. I didn’t become obsessed with writing until I was 15. It was 2020. The world had gone into lockdown and my friend and I were looking for things to pass the time. Because we’re dramatic, we decided to write a book. We got to work and it was. So. Much. Fun. I quickly discovered that I loved coming up with plots and characters and dialogue. We enjoyed the experience so much that we decided to make it a trilogy and wrote two more books after that, the third of which was long enough to be considered a novel, which blew my mind. I got such a high off of it. I loved the feeling of finishing each project; the bittersweet joy mixed with a sense of accomplishment. This was what spiralled me from being a casual writer to being obsessed with writing. I fell down the rabbit hole.

From that moment on, I was constantly writing. I wrote short stories, novel-length stories, poems, songs, essays, screenplays. I took every single writing or English related class that I possibly could through school, I spent hours watching writing videos on YouTube, all in order to learn as much about the craft as I possibly could. I know I love writing. I’ve known that for a long time. But lately, I’ve been pondering the question: why do I write? Why am I as drawn to storytelling as I am? Why do I have such a fascination with words?

I wish it was a simple answer. It’s not. However, I will now attempt to answer it to the best of my ability. Like most writers, my love of writing began with a love of reading. When I was a kid, I was a complete and utter bookworm. I constantly had my nose in a book and wouldn’t go anywhere without one handy; I would bring a book to school, to my grandparent’s house, on family holidays. But I wouldn’t buy a new book every week, I would just read the same books over and over again. I could pick up a book I’d read seven times before and still be entertained. While I no longer have the time to read as much as I did as a kid, I still consider it to to be one of my favourite hobbies. I’ve always loved that reading can transport you into another world, in a way that films and tv shows can’t. It can take you out of your own head and put you into someone else’s, even if it’s only for an hour. A good book will completely immerse you, until you forget that what you’re reading isn’t even real.

In my opinion, there is nothing better than a good story. Whether that be a story that touched you so deeply that not a day goes by where you don’t think of it, or one that still makes you giggle every time it crosses your mind. From the ones we pass down through generations and wear like a badge of honour, to the ones we tell around the dinner table to lighten the mood. We all have that one story we just love telling, even if we tell it over and over again. There is a power to storytelling that often goes unappreciated. Stories can move people. They can make you laugh, or cry, or change the way you think about the world- whether they be true or fictional. Stories can have such a big impact on a person; from the way they carry themselves to the way they live their day to day life. There are so many stories told through art- from books, to films, to music- that I feel have shaped who I am. My entire life, I’ve dreamed of one day being fortunate enough to put something out into the world that I’ve created that could possibly have as much of an impact on a person as certain stories have had on me. My love of reading, of storytelling, of creating; that is part of why I write.

But it’s not the only reason.

I’ve always been the sort of person who lives in their own little world. I’m constantly daydreaming; constantly with my head up in the clouds. While reading helps me utilise my imagination, it’s never been an outlet for my overflowing brain the way that writing is. There’s always so many stories and ideas swirling around my head that I have to get at least some of them down on paper. When I talk, I don’t feel articulate. I stumble over my words and never fully get my points across and always feel like my thoughts are being judged or misconstrued or unvalidated or all of the above. This has always made me feel tragically misunderstood. I know, woe is me. But for whatever reason, when I write, I do feel articulate, which in turn makes me feel understood. Writing gives me the ability to detangle some of the mess in my brain. Writing is like therapy to me. It’s a cathartic release of emotions that I can’t find anywhere else. Writing is my lifeline. Without it, I genuinely believe I would go mad. It’s intoxicating, and I’m addicted to it. I know I’m describing it like I’m in some sort of toxic, one-sided, codependent relationship with writing, but it’s the truth. It’s my truth.

I’m the sort of person who never says what they’re really thinking. The only times I am ever truly honest and vulnerable is through my writing. This here will be a collection of essays, lists, ramblings, and whatever other form of writing I am inspired to write. It will almost be like I am cutting open my brain and showing what’s inside.

This, right here, is a fraction of my mind.