©2008-13 by Raymond Alexander Kukkee
“Why do writers write? Let’s ask ‘Why do other writers write?’ In observation there may be as many answers as there are writers.
Even the most astute observer can only study writers, read their creative offerings, fiction, blog or prose, and contemplate why writers write. In real life specific driving forces behind written works are speculation at best; why the most unique, powerful individual writers write great works may never be known. Only observations and hypotheses can be offered.
Inspiration experienced by individuals is fleeting, a unique experience at best and as scribblers soon learn, inspiration fades away if not utilized immediately. Monolithic, essential notes, or indecipherable bedside hen-scratching in the dark -both attest to that phenomenon. Why do we forget –even if we promise ourselves we shall remember that great dream, that wonderful premise in the morning?
Why Writers Write can be Personal
Some authors report simply writing for planned occupational therapy as a remedy for personal tragedy, for healing, or simple temporary amusement. Profit is offered as a reason; to make a living is a necessity, but a myriad of other reasons are also offered.
Divine inspiration, gentle words, expression, raw compulsion, fear or truth may be involved. A whim to tell a simple story may blossom; a nagging sense of urgency to address an issue may carry one to the extreme. That worthy concept may seem a stretch for today’s contemporary casual scribbler or the trendy, giggling blogger who writes breathlessly to mimic peers who write seriously.
Words taunt the driven author upon occasion demanding a response; relict, ancestral words and thoughts rediscovered must be used. The teasing subconscious,– the Muse may otherwise be responsible; the realm of the hidden, inner mind offers reasons to write that may be infinite in number but ultimately undiscovered.
Being compelled to relay an interpretation or vision of civilization and a sense of social responsibility to humanity may be a driving force. A logical idea, for if failing to fulfill our destiny, human beings subsequently and unpredictably come to question their own dedication to humanity and their own reason for being, — a source of insecurity, endless question and self-doubt.
Even living In the curious state of being inexplicably drawn to the act of writing, the question ‘why writers write’ may not be answered, but the alternative of not writing can leave haunting, edgy ghosts in the mind. Life unexpressed. Derelict anchors drag incessantly on the soul, vacillating in slow, momentous and repetitive arcs, leaving shapeless trails—the vision incomplete, visible only to the discontented and the unfulfilled.
Simple or Complicated?
Perhaps, more simply, the release of burgeoning collections of words and opinion creates happiness. Is this simplified excuse the one and only genuine reason to write? How about the strange compulsion to unburden the tortured soul? Transparency of the soul is not the same thing as baring the soul, for as life demonstrates, far greater iniquities, evil and devious contemplations may remain hidden beneath masks; reams of written indifference, unquiet and denial.
Transparency and the written word allow introspection and cultivation of the soul. Writing allows the light of faith and logic to enter the soul and encourage discussion, the greening of the mind, the start of wisdom, and the growth of knowledge. Specific, unique, and even contentious thought ripens for the daring–not necessarily a bad thing, but it can offer complications.
The world of words can blossom into creations of inexplicable, naked beauty. Self‑expression, comprehension of faith and a pristine presentation of the soul to the writer in whatever condition it may exist– is offered to those who would so invest The action of writing a single written word can change destiny.
Subconscious reluctance to write may be responsible for the reverse, the lack of motivation. Writers may face challenges of their own making, and justifiably so at times, for critics, reviewers, enemies and fools alike –even well-meaning supporters can be perceived to be unkind.Should writers expose their innermost thoughts, wishes, proffer dreams to the withering glance of a critical world in an effort to initiate perceived,necessary change? Doing so can be difficult, for tears of truth often fall unseen.
Would civilization prefer pastoral blather and meaningless dialogue? Cute poems that rhyme with precision? Should authors write publicly within predetermined, socially-approved parameters, placating acceptable schools of thought, smugly quoting moldy clichés –but remain smouldering, and silenced privately? We think not.
What purpose would a scribbled offering of silence remedy, –and what other than devious purpose could selective silence fulfill? The written word is more powerful than the sword.
The most singular and compelling reason to write may be that the simple contributions to civilization from individual writers are both building blocks and interpretive tools that may help construct and guide both the core and structure –and expose flaws in the veneer of civilization. As a writer, do you wish to participate, or shall you wait at the garden gate, growing approved moss in your mind?
What is the effect of the word unwritten? Potential wonders undiscovered. The status quo in it’s imperfection unchallenged . Stories, unused creativity, potentially valuable ideas static, stifled, hidden and meaningless. The history of creativity unchanged. Do we dare to step into the unknown universe? If writers do not write and explore, how can we bear to stare back into our souls from the dusty mirrors of time?
The bold must step out and write.
Why do writers write? We speculate that genuine writers must write, for if they do not, they are not free to examine, or offer with dignity any remedy to the momentous tearing of the fabric of humanity. Let’s ask ‘Why do other writers write?’ In observation there may be as many answers as there are writers.
A writer, however inspired– cannot ignore participation in the quintessential patching of the world and tailoring of the new. Perhaps that’s why some writers write. Why do you write?
Is that Incoming I hear?