Why I Want to Write

Hello, everyone. It’s me again, back at you with another writing post. Today is a day of looking into my motivation of my dream, a melancholy sentiment and an optimistic hope.

“You can make anything by writing” ~CS Lewis

I want to write, to make something new. I want to relate to readers the way books have done for me. To create characters so vivid they seem alive. To take a blank page full of potential and etch out a new world. I want to have my own unique style, splash a newfound flavor onto a page, add a suspenseful plot, and pack it all onto a book.

I want to impact my reader’s lives.

(I want to have readers as a matter of fact, not that I don’t like reading my own writing by myself)
I want to make a new world. And make a difference.

“You only fail if you stop writing” ~ Ray Bradbury

I can’t quit. I am aiming for my dream. I long to stand at a little table with my book series on it in the midst of a bustling Homeschool Convention, wearing my badge with a smile. I long to design bookmarks and mailing lists to hand out to readers. I think I’ll stay up until the crack of dawn filming/editing q&a’s and book trailers. I dream of walking into a bookstore and searching for the young adult fiction section, finally finding my book, my heart and soul crackled between other friendly faces on the shelves.

“Writing is the painting of the voice!” - Voltaire

Writing is how I express myself. When I gaze out a window and see a fresh sprig of grass popping out, I can't just look at it. I have to slide open the pages of my wrinkled yet loved notebook and pour out my heart.

“A writer is simply a photographer of thoughts” ~ Brandon A. Trean

I write because it records, I write because it makes memories. I capture words on a page that might disappear if I had waited a second more or had I been distracted.

“I write only because there is a voice within me that will not be still” ~ Sylvia Plath

Writing helps me organize my thoughts. When I come home from a confused mumble jumbled day of mixed happenings, I don’t know what to think. Or how. I have to write it all down and process it all. Then I decide what I think of it, and it makes sense. My brain is organized. I can breathe again. After I confide in my dear friendly notebook, I can live again in the real world.

I don’t just want to write. I have to write. Somedays it’s not in my mood to write a book, but it is always a deep passion rushing under my skin. All the days of my life I have wanted and want to be a writer. I am a writer. If you are too, here is some fresh inspiration for your writing needs today.