Why I Write


I cleaned my bedroom yesterday.  The only way I can clean is if I’m in a huge organizing-mood.  Due to this, I live in a complete pigsty, my entire room in disarray.  Yesterday I was in the mood, however.  Maybe because it was Saturday.  I even baked brownies! (and I hate to cook/bake!)  My favorite thing about cleaning is that I always find stuff that I totally forgot I had.  There’s one thing I come across during every cleaning excursion.  It’s a packet of papers on writing exercises.  I have no idea where I got them, but they look interesting.  Every single time I find it, I pick it up and say ‘Hey, I should do these” . . . and then forget about them.  But, because today was only “light” cleaning and took very little time, I finally sat down and did the first one.  I will post it here for you to read and laugh at.  The instructions were to write for as long as I could (or had time for) on ‘Why I Write’.  I forgot to time myself, but just went until I had to stop for supper.  You aren’t allowed to re-read anything or make corrections afterwards.  So what you’re getting is a very terrible, very rough essay with horrid grammar mistakes.  To be honest, it was a bit scary for me.  What if I just sat there, staring at the computer going, “Aaaah, I don’t know!”?  But, I found that by starting every paragraph (or reason) with the phrase ‘I write because’ that my fingers would just fill in the blank on their own.  I even surprised myself!

Warning: this will not necessarily make sense!  Some sentences are extremely confusing, even to me–and I wrote it!  This is proof of the importance of editing!!!

I have a challenge though: do this exercise on your blog.  If you aren’t a writer, then change it to why you blog, or are a photographer or a scuba-diver or whatever.  See what happens.

Why I Write

3/ 8 /08 

I write because I was meant to.  Some things in life are a bore to work through and it takes a lot of mental encouragement to rouse yourself to action. Writing does not.  Writing just works.

 I write because I love to read.  I love stories: the way they take you far, far away from life and it’s many problems.  The way they make you feel whatever they want you to: nothing is as manipulative as a story!  The way the command your attention and refuse to share you with anything else.  Stories are the lifeblood of our existence.  Everything we do is, in essence, a story to tell later!  The best teachers use stories because we can all relate to them! I write because in writing I have found who I am.  Things I didn’t realize about myself became clear when my pen hit the paper.  As I wrote down my thoughts before they even formed in my mind.  The paper is like a fly-catcher: if grabs the ideas right out of your head!  Things I didn’t know, I realize that, deep down, I actually DID. 

I write because I believe I have a message.  What is it?  I honestly don’t know.  Part of me thinks I have several, the other part thinks maybe I’m still searching.  I know I can bring the message of love to the table, of hope.  I know I write about truth, a lot.  Normally, the truth we don’t wish to hear.  I believe people deserve the honest truth.  Not some skirt around the question, wishy-washy answer.  In fact, maybe in writing this, I have just found my message: truth.  (See, I told you writing tells me my beliefs I haven’t realized yet!)

I write because my friends don’t.  Isn’t that awful?  I didn’t realize that till just now.  But I am such an independent person that I do—very often—go out of my way to go against the crowd and make sure I’m obviously an individual.  What teenager actually likes to write?  I know some…but very few.  Writing makes me who I am, it identifies me.  Who am I?  I’m a writer.

 I write because it is an excuse to be on my laptop, an excuse to search the web for interesting tidbits, an excuse to research topics when I should be doing something else.
I write because I love to learn!  In writing, I can go out of my way to find out something new to write about, some flower bud popping through the soil, waiting to be discovered.  A story? A historical fact? A time-period?  Research is actually very interesting to me.
 So, now I have to go eat supper.  I guess I am done. This is why I write.  

~Emily Grace 


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