In his Nobel Lecture, “My Father’s Suitcase,” which appears in the December 25-January 1, issue of The New Yorker, Orhan Pamuk talks about, among other things, why he writes. He says this:

“The question we writers are asked most often, the favorite question, is: Why do you write? I write because I have an innate need to write. I write because I can’t do normal work as other people do. I write because I want to read books like the ones I write. I write because I am angry at everyone. I write because I love sitting in a room all day writing. I write because I can partake of real life only by changing it. I write because I want others, the whole world, to know what sort of life we lived, and continue to live, in Istanbul, in Turkey. I write because I love the smell of paper, pen, and ink. I write because I believe in literature, in the art of the novel, more than I believe in anything else. I write because it is a habit, a passion. I write because I am afraid of being forgotten. I write because I like the glory and interest that writing brings. I write to be alone. Perhaps I write because I hope to understand why I am so very, very angry at everyone. I write because I like to be read. I write because once I have begun a novel, an essay, a page I want to finish it. I write because everyone expects me to write. I write because I have a childish belief in the immortality of libraries, and in the way my book sit on the shelf. I write because it is exciting to turn all life’s beauties and riches into words. I write not to tell a story but to compose a story. I write because I wish to escape from the foreboding that there is a place I must go but—-as in a dream—-can’t quite get to. I write because I have never managed to be happy. I write to be happy.”

In my writing group, some of us shared why we write. Here are the responses, along with links to the writer’s most recent published work.

Sarah Black

I write because I believe in the power of fiction, of stories and ideas, to heal the world.

45 Seconds and Gone at flashquake (Note: This story was one of my 12/8/06 Picks of the Week)

Egg at The Angler

Fleur Bradley

I write because it’s all mine (this would be the selfishness others have mentioned . From the white page to the finished product, good or crummy, it’s all up to me.

Nothing else gives me the sense of accomplishment that writing does.

Breathing Room at Apollo’s Lyre

Mall Crawling at Shred of Evidence

Beautiful at Tales from the Moonlit Path

Mitzi McMahon

I write because I want people to see the world the way I see it. I write so I can explore things, so I can understand the emotional undertones of living. I write because I enjoy seeing my insides come to life. I write because I don’t know how not to write. I write because I love putting pencil to paper, love seeing a story evolve on what was once a blank page. I write because I’m introverted. I write because I love the feeling of “getting” it, of learning what makes a story worth reading. I write so I can see, understand, explain how it feels to have a mother scold a small child, to have a teenager boldly display her sexuality, to have a father rebel. I write because I love the feeling of getting lost in my characters, of inhabiting their world. I write because there’s nothing better than losing myself in a great book. I write to connect…with myself, with someone else. I write because it’s who I am, it’s the secret part of me that wants and waits to be validated. I write because I love words. I write because it gives me freedom to express on paper, through my characters, things that I would never do, places I would never go.

Taking Turns in Insolent Rudder

Flying Really Fast in The Houston Literary Review

Joseph Young

Mostly I write to watch the magical ability of my brain to find language that precisely describes my wholly imprecise feelings, ideas, and memories.

Photographers at Smokelong Quarterly

Shellie Zacharia

I write because it makes me feel alive, it makes me feel grand and full of the world, full of language, story, the human experience.

I write because I have always loved books.

The Beginning of a Fairy Tale in Juked

Petals in Ward 6 Review

Bird Song in Verbsap

This is why I write:

I write because it’s the only thing that makes sense to me. I write because it’s how I learn. I write because I have poor verbal skills. I write because I’m too sensitive to be a lawyer or a social worker, and I’m too squeamish to work with animals. I write because I still want to do all of these things and it’s the only way I know how. I write because on paper I can be whatever I want and do whatever I want. I write because I’m rebellious. I write because it calms me down. I write because someday I hope it will validate me. I write because the physical act of it makes me happy. I write because my favorite places are libraries. I write because a house, a life, without books, unnerves me. I write because I crave solitude. I write because I’m selfish. I write because I can sit in front of my computer wearing whatever I want. I write because by turning bad or complicated or confusing times in my life into fiction, I can start to understand them. I write because it’s necessary.

Filed Under: The Writer's Life |