When writing means so much

Hi, Amy. Of course I'm at the computer. You should know better than most that I'm writing at the moment - you're a character from my imagination - how else could we be communicating?


You want to discuss why I spend so much time writing? You're concerned about me? Hmmm. Doesn't really sound like you. I have a sneaking suspicion you're bored right now. Did the family you live with in the mid 1800s happen to hire a new maid? Are you bored because you've got nothing to do except sew something? 

       Ahuh. Figured as much.

Still, now that you've asked, let me think about it ...

Well, I certainly don't spend a lot of time writing  because it's easy.

Describing why I write seems quite intangible to me. It's like asking what drives a person to fantasize. For me, the word compelled  is probably the best way to describe why I hit the keys or put the pen to paper. It's a compulsion to create characters within situations, just like you, to elicit emotions in readers, or simply entertain.
Too serious for you? Then let me put it another way. The yearning to write can linger within a person from childhood. It happened to me. It can feel like an itch that won't go away no matter how many times it's scratched. 


And the truth is, writing can be challenging. It takes practice. Maybe there's some procrastination. But then along comes that compulsion.

It makes sense that writers have a keen sense of their surroundings, and an ability to notice subtleties - the inflection of a voice perhaps, or the intricacies of an expression - all preserved in an internal time capsule of sequestered memories, just waiting to be documented. 

Pardon? Now I'm boring you? Maybe you should go and help the maid with her chores.

Did someone say ... laundry?