Why Do I Write

People often ask me why do I write, unfortunately I have no answer. I started when I was eighteen when my then girlfriend said we were through. I said to myself if the Beatles can do it why not try it. I was lonely with nothing else better to do and it all progressed from there. The more I wrote the better I got and now I don’t even think about it as the ideas just come to me and I write them down quickly before they pass. When I started, my parents said it was just a passing phase, but here almost half a century has gone by and that seems like some long passing phase. Of course as I progressed, I experimented with poetry, short stories and novels, now my back library seems endless and still I write more and more jumping from one subject to another. If I knew why I do it, I’d bottle it and sell it probably making a fortune on the way. Sadly, the answer eludes me, all I know is, I just sit with pen in hand and the words come automatically with line following line until I am through no matter what facet of writing I am working in. I never question myself about it, but just let it happen and feel happy that it does. Maybe sometime in the future some scholar will give an answer to why I do it. 24 April 2011