Writing makes me happy. If I don’t write, I feel miserable. But there are other reasons why I chose to be a writer…
(In no particular order.)
- To work from home in my pyjamas while drinking hot tea and eating honeyed biscuits.
- To arouse the imagination of children and tickle the hearts of women and challenge the minds of men through my stories, and by doing so to make friends with people that I will never meet.
- To have a trade that brings me not material wealth but intellectual, emotional, moral, and possibly posthumous satisfactions.
- To turn my love woes and my love joys into romantic stories that provide emotional relief or emotional ecstasy.
- To read as much as I want when I want, and if anyone objects, to raise my head from my book, smile, and reply that I am doing research for my next novel.
- To be an observer and watch interesting people and understand how they do what they do and why, and more importantly, how they feel while doing it.
- To earn a living by writing similes like when I am heartbroken I feel like an empty glass full of nothing.
- To make myself, my family, my friends, my acquaintances, and my future lovers proud.
- To be eccentric, and to have a good excuse not to follow the news, not to go to church, not to wake up early in the morning and go to work, not to vote, and not to watch TV.
- To develop mental and emotional habits that will make me impartial to most that is happening around me, and thus to avoid having many prejudices.
- To have an excuse to devour audiobooks, films, music albums, and art daily.
- To have my own Wikipedia page one day.
- To become immortal by way of the pen.
This could go on, but now I have to tip my hat and start writing about what Oliver Colors and Lady Katherine Frost did after the carnival night.
Will you continue this list? Why did you choose to be a writer?