Yes, I realize that this topic has been broached before. Yes, I realize that we may (or may not be) tired of discussing it. But sometimes I wonder if we don't need reminding of why exactly it is that we write.
Is it for profit? If so then I suggest buddying up to one James Frey.
Is it to unleash one's inner demons? And what better way than to imprison them on paper.
Is it for fun? Forget playing joyfully in the sunshine. No physical exercise for me!
Is it because we have a story filled with wonderful characters that we can't wait to share with the rest of the world? Silly dreamers.
Well, I'm afraid that makes me a silly dreamer who forgoes physical exercise in order to get revenge on those demons that just won't give it a rest already. Ironically, it was the money that first motivated me. I remember waking up one morning in early July last year and thinking "You know what? That dream I've been having every night for the past three years would make a terrific story! Think of all the money I could make!" But then any ideas of profit were swiftly swallowed by the need to just explore. I think that's what defines my reasons for writing best. I come up with a world and some characters, and the very first thing I do is sit back and think of all the possibilities. And you know what? It's fun.
I've come to the conclusion that I really don't care much about the economics. And until that day when I emerge blinking into the arguably harsh reality of the modern world I will continue to not give a rip, choosing instead to frolic in imaginary meadows with imaginary characters.
"Now wait just a moment!" you might say. "What about everything that comes after? What about editing? What about querying? What about self-publishing? What about all those empty soda cans strewn about this little cave of yours? When are you going to clean up and get a job?" That's a very good question, Mom, and also half the fun. One of my little quirks is enjoying the time when there isn't time, and just going by the seat of my pants. I figure if the imaginary world was good enough and the imaginary characters held my interest throughout then there's a pretty good chance someone else out there might enjoy the same imaginary experience. So why deprive them of it? Keeping my babies out of the slushpile means putting a tremendous amount of effort into them, but you know what?
It's worth it. If even one person can claim to have gotten some enjoyment out of my writing, then it won't have been a waste of time. In fact, as long as I had fun writing, my time will never be truly wasted.
I write to tell stories. But what about you? What do you write for?
