A few years ago, I was involved in a podcast with Cassandra Clare, Sarah Rees Brennan, Melissa Marr, Janni Lee Simner, & Jennifer Barnes.
This is sort of weird, but cool. Anyway, it was really great talking about books and urban fantasy with them.
This was during the era of NEED.
But the thing is…
I never get to really express what I feel about writing in those kinds of things. Sure, I can talk about hamster (or hampster) erotica, but I never get to say the reason I write. And I think that it’s easy for me to be quippy when I answer or even trite and those responses are still true (I’ve listed them below):
I write because I want my voice heard.
I write because I don’t know how not to.
I write so kids can have stories where they see themselves.
I write because I want to be part of building empathy, of lifting kids up instead of pushing them down.
I write because nobody can interrupt me. People always interrupt me. Even my dogs interrupt me.
But that’s not the whole truth. It’s not the truth beneath the truth. So, bear with me (or ignore this), the reason I write is this:
I started out as a poet (yes, a bad poet) and to me stories are still poems. When you craft stories to express what you see and you experience in the world (be it good, bad, cruddy, sexy) you are taking a massive amount of observation and imagination and creating something with meaning… it’s a meaning that should resonate not just with you but with the rest of humanity.
I don’t care what genre you do or you don’t fit into. I think this applies throughout.
It’s the emotion, the search for understanding of people’s (characters’) actions and movement, that helps us make our connections to each other and to the rest of humanity.
That’s why I write.
Why do you?