The first assignment for the Writing 101 class asked the question, “Why do you write?” To be honest, I hate that question.

Why do I write? Why do I breathe? One is as natural as the other and sometimes just as difficult. Anyone who has suffered from asthma or pneumonia will understand. Writing is something I’ve always liked to do and sometimes it’s been something I had to do. Not because of an assignment, but because the words themselves demanded to be let out of my head. To keep them in would be like swallowing poison. Some of my best writing has come when I didn’t think about it too much…that has been some of my worst writing too!

Yes, yes, I write because I enjoy sharing my thoughts with others and because I feel I have a story to tell from which others could benefit. That is really such a small part of it though, because for many years, I wrote what no one read. I still write many things that no one sees, and some that I wish I hadn’t seen either, let alone anyone else. Sometimes writing is therapy, sometimes it’s prayer, sometimes it’s expressing joy. I write because it helps me gather my thoughts, else they fly away from me in scattered pieces, never to be found again.