On Sunday night of Memorial Day weekend at 8:11 pm I try to gather my thoughts and put this post together. Looking back, the entire month of May has been nothing short of chaotic and stressful. I have dealt with my father’s several trips to the hospital with heart issues. Even as I write this piece, he is back in the hospital awaiting another surgical procedure.
Along with that, I have been juggling more than my usual share of various obligations. The anxiety is closing in, and I’m having a difficult time dealing with my rollercoaster emotions.
Why?
The answer hit me one morning when a story idea flew through my head. I haven’t taken the time to read or write for several weeks. I have been sacrificing the one thing I rely on to keep me calm and focused. Some people run, some people eat, some turn to bad habits when dealing with this thing called life. I turn to books.
As long as I can remember, I have always loved reading. Days of childhood summers with my nose buried in books are among some of my fondest memories. My love of reading led to my love of storytelling. An obsession I have pursued since elementary school and now enjoy every day.
I never gave much thought to why I write. It didn’t seem necessary. But according to the “experts,” to be a successful author I must have a reason or purpose for my act. A mission statement, if you will, to give me a voice in promoting myself and my author brand. I can now articulate that purpose. I write because it’s who I am.
So simple but yet so honestly right.
Writing is an innate part of me. It serves as a source of comfort. I write to get lost in the lives of the characters and settings that will never stop springing up in my head. I crave molding those ideas into stories and letting them carry me into their adventures. To distract me from my every day, sometimes burdening, problems if only for a few hours.
As a lifelong reader, I have always admired talented authors whose books, like magic, transport me into their pages. As a writer, I want to pay it forward and also sweep readers off their feet. I want them to fall in love with my imaginary worlds. I want to give them the same experience when they open up the pages of my books.
So despite my temporary challenges the last few weeks I am grateful to find clarity. I need to write! I will always craft stories, whether for myself or an audience. I love my books, and I hope you do, too.
What makes you write? Or read? I would love to hear your thoughts.