I WRITE BECAUSE…
I wish I could come on here and write some deeply moving tale about why I write, but the bottom line is I learned to tell stories and write them because I liked the attention.
In my Mom and Dad’s family everybody had a talent- they could sing or play an instrument or paint or draw and a couple of them- both of my Grandfathers in fact- could tell stories.
They could tell scary stories, they could tell jokes, they could tell you about their trip to the store and those stories were better than anything in the stories I read or on TV or at the movies.
No matter how good the food, how fine the wine, how wonderful the music when it came time to tell stories the storytellers owned the room.
In my mind there was nothing better you could do or be then that.
Both of my Grandfathers helped me learn how to tell a story- all the way from how to stand or sit and when to make eye contact with my listeners and to always, always weave something from the moment ( something someone was wearing, the color of the room, anything ) into your story.
They also both agreed on one thing- ghosts always made the story more interesting so at least work one of those into your story no matter what.
That’s a challenge- the first of many as I writer I would learn to take on- and most of the time I won.
It was funny, my Grandfathers never really knew each other- they lived in different states, came from different countries ( Canada and the Philippines ) had different temperaments and I couldn’t tell you if they even liked each other but when it came to the story telling and me wanting to do the same they were on the same page.
They were both so proud when I was reading by the time I was eight years old, writing by nine, and what was I up to they would both say, ” she’s a writer”
They said it before I did or anyone else for that matter. So when it comes to that question, why do I write- am I really a writer?
I write because my Grandfathers said I could, that’s why. And if they were here they could tell you all about it and you’d soak in every single word. You’d be eating out of their hand.
That’s what I want to do every time I write…for them.
5 thoughts on “I Write Because…”
I love reading personal anecdotes, like I already said in my list. So, I loved your reason. It is great to have grandparents tell us stories. I remember, when I was a kid I would pester anyone and everyone to tell me stories. My Aunt Polly obliged. One of the stories she told me (the one I most clearly remember) is a horror story and that is the only horror story that I have written in my life. It’s on my blog, I’d love if you check it out!
Link it here in the comment section. I’d love to read
I linked it… just click on that bluish tag in the comment and it should redirect you there.
You have a great reason to write. When something is driven by a feeling in your heart, you can’t go wrong.