Comments on: Why we write

By: Faith Heuwinkel

Faith Heuwinkel — Mon, 17 Jan 2011 22:39:45 +0000

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By: ClarkeBette27

ClarkeBette27 — Fri, 30 Jul 2010 20:46:28 +0000

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By: Wm Morris

Wm Morris — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 17:30:24 +0000

I don’t hate it although I do find it painful so I may be missing the same gene. I don’t write in a journal. My output of creative writing is meager at best. I haven’t so far been able to complete anything longer than a short story — and to make matters worse the creative writing that seems to happen most naturally for me at the moment is super short and episodic.

One of the primary issues is that work saps a lot of my writing energy. You’d think that blogging would do the same thing, but actually I find that it doesn’t quite come from the same place and so I don’t find it incredibly draining.

I’m happiest writing fiction, but I find it incredibly difficult to get into the right groove. Let me correct that — I’m happiest revising fiction. I love rewriting my work. It’s getting the stuff out and on paper un-mediated that I find most painful and difficult and that I tend to avoid.

By: Kristine

Kristine — Thu, 12 Feb 2009 16:13:54 +0000

Wow. All these happy writers. Strangely, for someone who writes a fair amount, I hate writing. HATE. I do it out of necessity and a sense of duty–my journals are a decades-long record of starting, persisting for varying lengths of time, and quitting, then starting again with paroxysms of guilty attempts to hit the high points of the two or three years I missed. A root canal or writing an essay? SUCH an easy choice. Unmedicated childbirth or a term paper? Easy peasy.

So, am I doomed? Did any of you hate writing and convert? Or is there a writing gene I’m missing? Or, for any of you, is it like running–you hate it while you’re doing it, but love how you feel afterwards?

By: B

Wed, 11 Feb 2009 17:14:32 +0000

Lately, I’ve been writing in my online journal because of my oldest son. He is absolutely positive that just because he is 18, he is an adult and should be treated as one and should be able to do whatever it is he wants. And yet, he’s not behaving like one. I’m trying to get this all down, because, really, it’s hilarious material and he will probably like to read it when he’s older and more mature. And I’d like to know later on that I survived!LOL So for now, I have a lot to write about, because really, every day it’s something else with this kid. I just don’t want to forget this time in our lives, no matter how trying or how annoying or even how funny it is sometimes. Honestly I should have a blog called something like, “Another episode in how to help my 18 yr old become the adult he thinks he is…”LOL I could write every day if I wanted because every day I get a phone call from him and it’s yet another predicament he’s in. Hmmm…it would probably help someone to know they’re not alone….lol

By: kristy

kristy — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 05:45:22 +0000

I don’t consider myself a “writer” per se, but I write for many of the reasons you list. One, to get a laugh. Two, to help validate other people who might be afraid to admit the things that I’m willing to put out there, and three, because every couple of years I write something that I’m really proud of, and it feels incredibly satisfying.

By: Que

Que — Wed, 11 Feb 2009 05:30:32 +0000

I write because I feel like I have to. I’m one of those people who never vents out loud, and eventually I will have so much emotion bottled up that I absolutely have to have an outlet. I write because if I don’t, I’ll go crazy, and I write because some of my problems seem to resolve themselves once I’ve written them on paper instead of obsessing over them in my head. I also write because I don’t want to forget what has gone on in my life – when I get married, I want my husband to read what I’ve written (as embarrassing as that may be ) and know who I was when I was a teenager.

By: GMS

GMS — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 22:18:21 +0000

I have always written,but I was finding my journal hard to keep up with, and full of negative things about my life (well mostly my hubby) I blog because there is an instant audience; I have to check myself before I write. I want my kids to be able to read what I wrote and not think I was crazy. I also write to make others laugh and think “me, too”.
I write to life life twice. Once in the moment when things are happening and once to savor over and over again.

By: Julie King

Julie King — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 18:16:07 +0000

I write because it is cheaper than therapy. I write because I want to remember the good days as well as the bad. I write to make my mom miss my kids and come visit us. I write so that I don’t yell at my husband. I write so that I don’t commit road rage. I write so that one day my kids will remember me as a person and not as a list of facts and pictures. I write so that someday my daughters will read about my struggles and they won’t feel so alone as they struggle to be good enough mothers. I write because I love it and it’s cathartic and because it reminds me that on days when I feel like I am nothing but a walking napkin for little people, that I do have a brain and that I am still smart even though most of that brain is now filled with such important things as dentist appointments, bills to pay, and how to make the perfect grilled cheese sandwich.

By: shelah

shelah — Tue, 10 Feb 2009 17:33:00 +0000

My blog writing has evolved over the years. It started as a journal. I figured that if I hit publish and someone out there might actually read it, I might do it (I think the years of hand-writing letters to a missionary didn’t inspire me, they burned me out for life). So I wrote on my blog. Gradually, when people started commenting, I self-censored, tried to be funnier, and worked at attracting an audience, at ratcheting up the comments. Then I got (sort of) over that, although comments still make me SO happy. Now the personal blog feels like almost as much of an obligation the red leather-bound journal that used to call my name as I hopped in bed at night. At some point, I told my mom and MIL and everybody about my blog, which means that I can’t vent about them anymore, when I complain about my ward or my church calling, invariably someone from church reads about it and calls me out. It used to be fun, now it’s work.

Essay writing has become my escape. If my mom only knew what I wrote about her there….