What motivates me to write?
Honestly, currently, what motivates me to write is a desire to not entirely lose my mind. I do a lot of journaling. I do a lot of outlining for future days. I scribble notes all over. I sketch out things to work on later. If I don’t I will lock myself up in the dark hole of my brain and not come out.
On the flip side, I write because I have always written. I remember writing my first poem at the age of ten. Before that, I drew. When I was more capable of stringing words together coherently, I did. There was just this thing in my heart that wanted to be heard, that wanted to be let out, that wanted to be acknowledged.
I still have that. When I was younger, it was more of a shriek. As I grew older and had to deal with all the sensory input around me, deal with the people in my life, deal with the experiences that came into my life…I shut down. I could and did shut down for years on end.
There were long years in there where I just went through the motions of being human–because inside there was nothing. Thankfully, getting divorced broke that shell open–but there were still years of work yet to be done.
Now, I am coming out of another different period of breakdown. Too many miscarriages. Too much stress. Not enough downtime for me.
I am an introvert, an extreme introvert. On the Meyers-Briggs scale, I am an INFJ. (And yes, I am married to an extreme extrovert. Opposites attract. He knew what he was getting into before we married–and so did I. )
I need NEED NEED my alone time. Some days the only alone time I get is in my journal.
Let me make it clear–not while I am writing. Or anything else. It’s just inside that journal. That’s me alone.
Journaling is one thing. But Writing, the act of creating something that wasn’t there, be it fiction or non-fiction…why do I write that?
Pretty much the same reason…because if I don’t get this story or that character out onto the page in some way…my brain is going to explode…so…ya know…lol
I have also been thinking a great deal lately. A couple of years ago, I took all of the writing I had done when I was younger and I shredded it, burned it, did away with it…and my daughter was upset with me. The person I would have thought–had I thought about it–would not have cared a whit about any of my work…told me how upset and hurt she was — because when I die she was looking forward to inheriting my work, so she’d have a piece of me.
Ok–some of that writing did NOT need to be in the hands of my children…I admit that. However, it made me start thinking. She has also commented on I better make sure I have enough finished art journals to go around to all three of my children–because she wants to make sure they all get them and share them.
So…I also write because I want to create some sort of legacy to leave behind.
As my friend Lisa told me in high school–she fully expects her children to read my books and other writing someday. When will that day come if I sit and do nothing with all the stories that go on in my head?
So…that is what motivates me to write.
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