Why I Write

I used to write because there were a lot of ideas in my head and it seemed like they needed a home elsewhere…and so I wrote them down.  On paper.  There were no blogs.

editorial note:  I was carded at a restaurant just two months ago, proving that I am quite young, or at least young-looking, or , as the waitress explained (on my non-protest to produce the requested document), “everyone under 40 gets carded”.  Thanks.

Medieval writing desk

Huh? Blog?  No, I said this desk is made of a solid piece of pine log!

Also, my parents claim that I was THE KING of pretend when I was a youngling.  So I’m sure all that time spent in “Pretend that…” land was the birth place for the ideas and subsequent writings.

And everything was great.  I learned how to write (not just physically, but, you know, correctly).  I spent much of high school and college in literature and writing courses.  A few people thought I was a decent writer.  I may or may not have been one of them.  They/we may or may not have been qualified to judge “decent” in this context.

Oh, and all that time spent in those course may or may not have been a great way to prepare for the present, since I work in banking with a bunch of analysts and number nerds who can wax eloquent on statistical data, ROE and percentage averages, but don’t see the value in verb conjugation or the horror of ending a sentence with a preposition.

All that to say, I once wrote because I had ideas, I enjoyed it and there were a handful of individuals who encouraged it (thanks Mrs. Stroebel!).

Work – and marriage – and kids – and lots of other stuff took up much of the time I used to spend thinking creatively and writing.  Yet I write!  But, the reason is singular and a bit more practical:

I now write so I don’t forget.

(Photo credit: Wikipedia)

About Rob

robrights.com...where Rob writes and sometimes "rights the write" of other writers. View all posts by Rob

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