Nateskate
I'm sure that some people never really give this much thought. But writers tend to be deeper thinkers for the most part, and some more than others.
Obviously there are reasons why we do most things, and sometimes we don't even know why we do what we do. But dedicating yourself to a writing career, or a major writing project can be exasperating.
If you could list the reasons why you first began writing or why you keep writing, it might be entertaining, enlightening, and helpful to those who are jumping into the vocation.
You may have a hierarchy of reasons: Supplemental income, you think it will get you babes, you feel a need to vent, or express your creativity, you need affection, you want to save the world, and believe that through your characters you will touch many lives, it's better than pushing burgers at McDonald's.
I'll begin: This is a true and somewhat pathetic story. I remember making up an entire fantasy when I was between four and five. At the time it was not due to my natural purity of heart. Without recounting my entire dysfunctional childhood, I developed a fear of the dark, so much so that I was afraid to get out of bed and go to the bathroom by myself. So, I made up an entire mythology and hoodwinked my brother into believing it. Through the prototypical means of befriending and feeding Elves that came to the back door, I was invited to a fantasy world. And each night while my brother was asleep I ventured to this land. It was rather grand as you can imagine, something on the scale of Michael Jackson's Neverland ranch. And my brother bought it.
So, I'd recount the previous night's encounters, and as a carrot, I'd offer to take my brother there when I went back that night. Obviously, he would be ticked off. "You said you'd take me last night." But I'd said, "Don't you remember going? You were with me. Come on, you couldn't have forgotten already...Then I'd recount his night and what he'd seen, and he was somewhat pleased with that, although he was disappointed at not remembering."
Well, it was hardly a noble birth of a story telling career, but he'd get up and take me down the hall every night for a time.
Obviously, the creative bent to write may be a natural part of your personality. I've written for much of my adult life. And deep down, there is a part of me that really wants to change the world. But mixed in, I've seen my share of what I'd call "more impure motives..." to achieve some sort of status, or to become financially successful. I realize that some would not consider them impure motives, but in the sense of wanting to change the world for the good, I'd place the other priorities well below that, and if it came down to having option one) change the world for the good, while giving up all hope of fame and honor, or two) Fame and honor, but you'd simply be no more than a diversionary entertainer who had little true impact on the hearts of men, I'd hope deep down that I'd choose number one. But the heart of man can be quite deceitful, and who can know it?
Obviously there are reasons why we do most things, and sometimes we don't even know why we do what we do. But dedicating yourself to a writing career, or a major writing project can be exasperating.
If you could list the reasons why you first began writing or why you keep writing, it might be entertaining, enlightening, and helpful to those who are jumping into the vocation.
You may have a hierarchy of reasons: Supplemental income, you think it will get you babes, you feel a need to vent, or express your creativity, you need affection, you want to save the world, and believe that through your characters you will touch many lives, it's better than pushing burgers at McDonald's.
I'll begin: This is a true and somewhat pathetic story. I remember making up an entire fantasy when I was between four and five. At the time it was not due to my natural purity of heart. Without recounting my entire dysfunctional childhood, I developed a fear of the dark, so much so that I was afraid to get out of bed and go to the bathroom by myself. So, I made up an entire mythology and hoodwinked my brother into believing it. Through the prototypical means of befriending and feeding Elves that came to the back door, I was invited to a fantasy world. And each night while my brother was asleep I ventured to this land. It was rather grand as you can imagine, something on the scale of Michael Jackson's Neverland ranch. And my brother bought it.
So, I'd recount the previous night's encounters, and as a carrot, I'd offer to take my brother there when I went back that night. Obviously, he would be ticked off. "You said you'd take me last night." But I'd said, "Don't you remember going? You were with me. Come on, you couldn't have forgotten already...Then I'd recount his night and what he'd seen, and he was somewhat pleased with that, although he was disappointed at not remembering."
Well, it was hardly a noble birth of a story telling career, but he'd get up and take me down the hall every night for a time.
Obviously, the creative bent to write may be a natural part of your personality. I've written for much of my adult life. And deep down, there is a part of me that really wants to change the world. But mixed in, I've seen my share of what I'd call "more impure motives..." to achieve some sort of status, or to become financially successful. I realize that some would not consider them impure motives, but in the sense of wanting to change the world for the good, I'd place the other priorities well below that, and if it came down to having option one) change the world for the good, while giving up all hope of fame and honor, or two) Fame and honor, but you'd simply be no more than a diversionary entertainer who had little true impact on the hearts of men, I'd hope deep down that I'd choose number one. But the heart of man can be quite deceitful, and who can know it?