W-hy

It’s not a question I hear often.  Usually people ask what I write or how I do it.  They ask where I write or when (either time of day or time period).  However, few people ask “why?”  I wondered about that.

Wonder.  That’s another word.  I’ll get back to it.  So, when someone asked recently why I write, I didn’t have an automatic answer.  I can tell you what, where, when, how, who, but why was elusive at first.  I think I gave some pat answer about how I have all these stories in my head and I love putting them on paper and seeing how they “tick.”  And it’s true.  I really do love that.  I’m pretty sure I added something about it being a way to share my faith without preaching– I hope.  That is also true.  Writing helps me share the Hope that is within me..

Now I know the answer I would give.  It’s a little cliche in it’s ambiguity, but it’s true.  I write because I am.  I exist; therefore, I write.  See, I keep thinking of me as someone who started writing about 12 years ago.  That’s a bunch of bunk.  I’ve written, first in my mind, then a short stint on legal pads, then back in my mind again, and now on the computer ever since I was about four or five that I can remember.  I write because it is what God made me– a writer.

Wonder.  I said I’d get back to that.  I think that every time I find a stale section of my writing, if I look close, wonder is absent.  I need to ensure that I keep a keen sense of wonder in my writing– that and an occasional touch of whimsy.