Why I Write
Or - how I know I'm still a writer, even when it's hard
Hello friends,
I stepped into Substack because of all the space to WRITE, the thing I like to do best. IG is tough for me because it relies on images, and I have a hard time remembering to snap pics when I’m out in the world. And if I can’t remember to take a still photo, you can imagine how TikTok would give me hives.
So I thought I’d warm up the space with some of my thoughts on writing and the creative life, gathered from a twenty-five year career as an author. I hope you find something to uplift you here, or to at least something to help you feel less isolated in an undertaking that is a super solitary pursuit.
Thankfully, other writers understand
Joanne
Why I Write
I spent a lot of time in reflection mode this past year. My work schedule gave me a little time off and—instead of adding in another project the way I might have in the past—I took the downtime. After a few weeks of downtime, however, I found it surprisingly difficult to get back in the work groove. I even wondered, briefly, if I was really cut out to be a writer if I could walk away from it so easily. All of which led me to some soul searching about why I write.
After a few weeks of biting my nails about why I hadn’t gotten back to work, I appealed to my writer friends. I asked if they’d been through the extended writerly sluggishness and asked for advice. The level of reassurance I received was heartening. I learned I’m not the only one to fall off this particular horse and have no pressing desire to jump right back on.
Before all was said and done, I had a lot of great tools for getting back on track. Take it a little at a time. Set small goals. Don’t pressure myself. All the sorts of advice I used over a decade ago when I first started writing. Those basics still apply for a writer recovering from Life, and they’re as effective as ever.
But the best bit of advice I received was to ask myself why I write. Had I said all that I have to say, or were there more words left in me to share? This was what proved the trickiest since I felt—at that time—content not to use any more words. So what still made me a writer?
I’ll tell you my answer. It’s the fulfillment I still feel from getting the words right. Even on a day when the words don’t come easily and I’d rather read a book than write my own—I’m still rewarded by a sense of accomplishment when a scene comes together or a character surprises me. The amount of satisfaction I take in those moments are immeasurable. We used to play a board game called “Careers” when I was a kid and you could collect money, stars (fame), or hearts (happiness). I guess I picture my writing career as something that feeds me back a lot of hearts in the long run. And no work that provided simple dollars or stars could come close to what I get out of writing.
Even when it’s hard. Even when I find it tough to get back in the saddle after some time away. The job is still paying me back with the richest of rewards.
