The desire to communicate seems to have arisen with the dawn of time. Our earliest ancestors found ways to document their existence through etchings on cave walls. It appears that the urge to share one's thoughts may be innately part of the human condition.
Although, reading and writing are relatively new activities in the vastness of human existence, there were and continue to be many other incredible ways of expressing oneself:
No, words are obviously not the only effective means of communicating. However, immense numbers of individuals have picked up a writing device and began their journey into the world of locution.
My question is . . . why? Why do people choose to follow this path?
Since I am no expert on all things literary, I turned to others to help answer this question. It seems there are almost as many theories as there are writers. Here are some I found most interesting:
Sheer egoism, according to George Orwell, is a major motivator to write. He believes that we who live by the pen write out of a “desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on the grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc.”
Well now, I can't say that I endorse that line of reasoning . . . at least not 100 percent. Perhaps there is an element of truth to his statement . . . one I'd prefer not to ponder . . . .
The next suggestion is more to my liking:
Joe Bunting, author, online writing instructor and blogger, subscribes to the following motivation to write (along with three other factors): "Writers are uniquely gifted to find meaning for themselves and to help others find meaning. In fact, this has always been the main task of storytellers. Every story matters to the person living it, and our job is to tell the universal stories, the stories that reveal the story of every person on the earth. We write to bring meaning to the world." Yes, indeed, this is much easier on my ego than the Orwellian philosophy.
Personally, I write to learn. Other writers have asked me why I chose the genre of historical fiction. "Isn't that a lot of work?" they ask. Of course it is, but research is my forte! What others may view as drudgery, I undertake with enthusiasm. Historical fiction offers me creative license as well. While facts are used as anchors for my stories, I am not confined to their limitations. Once they are secured in place, I then grant my muses transcendent freedom to explore - to invent - to take flight! There are no limits to the expanses where creativity can fly, and it is exhilarating!
As Henry David Thoreau is quoted as saying, "This world is but a canvas to our imagination."
He is right, but, lest you be deceived, I cannot deny that the writing process is not always playful. Ernest Hemingway captures this dichotomy perfectly: "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
While my keyboard has not yet been bloodied, I cannot deny that it has been showered with tears of frustration at times.
"If it's that painful," you may ask, "why do it at all?"
Maya Angelou described the unquenchable urge to write in perfect prose,
"There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you."
It was C. S. Lewis' reason for writing, though, that clanged like a bell of clarity in my spirit. He said, "I was with book, as a woman is with child."
I have often referred to my novel, Swift Currents of Change, as my baby. I certainly labored over it for months and even years. It is unique to me. It carries my finger prints.
Why do I write? To learn, to teach . . . to fling open the doors to my world as an offering to my readers and, indeed, to the world. It is a compulsion. Just as a woman in labor eventually experiences the unrelenting urge to push, I simply can't hold back.
My question is . . . why? Why do people choose to follow this path?
Since I am no expert on all things literary, I turned to others to help answer this question. It seems there are almost as many theories as there are writers. Here are some I found most interesting:
Sheer egoism, according to George Orwell, is a major motivator to write. He believes that we who live by the pen write out of a “desire to seem clever, to be talked about, to be remembered after death, to get your own back on the grown-ups who snubbed you in childhood, etc., etc.”
Well now, I can't say that I endorse that line of reasoning . . . at least not 100 percent. Perhaps there is an element of truth to his statement . . . one I'd prefer not to ponder . . . .
The next suggestion is more to my liking:
Joe Bunting, author, online writing instructor and blogger, subscribes to the following motivation to write (along with three other factors): "Writers are uniquely gifted to find meaning for themselves and to help others find meaning. In fact, this has always been the main task of storytellers. Every story matters to the person living it, and our job is to tell the universal stories, the stories that reveal the story of every person on the earth. We write to bring meaning to the world." Yes, indeed, this is much easier on my ego than the Orwellian philosophy.
Personally, I write to learn. Other writers have asked me why I chose the genre of historical fiction. "Isn't that a lot of work?" they ask. Of course it is, but research is my forte! What others may view as drudgery, I undertake with enthusiasm. Historical fiction offers me creative license as well. While facts are used as anchors for my stories, I am not confined to their limitations. Once they are secured in place, I then grant my muses transcendent freedom to explore - to invent - to take flight! There are no limits to the expanses where creativity can fly, and it is exhilarating!
As Henry David Thoreau is quoted as saying, "This world is but a canvas to our imagination."
He is right, but, lest you be deceived, I cannot deny that the writing process is not always playful. Ernest Hemingway captures this dichotomy perfectly: "There is nothing to writing. All you do is sit down at a typewriter and bleed."
While my keyboard has not yet been bloodied, I cannot deny that it has been showered with tears of frustration at times.
"If it's that painful," you may ask, "why do it at all?"
Maya Angelou described the unquenchable urge to write in perfect prose,
"There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside of you."
It was C. S. Lewis' reason for writing, though, that clanged like a bell of clarity in my spirit. He said, "I was with book, as a woman is with child."
I have often referred to my novel, Swift Currents of Change, as my baby. I certainly labored over it for months and even years. It is unique to me. It carries my finger prints.
Why do I write? To learn, to teach . . . to fling open the doors to my world as an offering to my readers and, indeed, to the world. It is a compulsion. Just as a woman in labor eventually experiences the unrelenting urge to push, I simply can't hold back.