Typically, on this day devoted to St. Valentine, we celebrate the love we have for one another. But this year, I’m going to do some word-nerd loving as well. (Don’t worry, all three special someone’s in my household have been appropriately showered with sweets and affection! There may also have been a few books involved!)
Last month I was asked, twice, “why do I write?” Once was at a workshop and once was a free writing exercise at my bimonthly writing group, this questions came up. It’s a good question. In a chaotic world, with so many voices, why do I choose to throw mine into the mix? Why, do I take it a step further and commit those words to paper… for others to see, and judge, and remember? Or perhaps put them out there only to be ignored? Why do I, or any of us, open ourselves up (via our work) to the scrutiny of others?
For me the answer boils down to love. I love words. I love writing them down. I love reading them. I love sharing them. I love saving words, stock piling words, saying words! I love words! When I was asked, “why do I write?” the below was my answer. The below is my valentine, to any other word nerds out there in the universe.
I write, because words on paper – whether read or written – feel like magic. In them I sense a power that is cumulatively greater than ink and paper. Stories are an entwining of spirit and imagination. Writing is a reckoning stronger than the head or the heart. The combination of letters and words, thoughts and emotions, intentions and reflections, is a mixture strong enough to cast a spell over me. I write to create a captivating illusion in a world that is so starkly real. I write to feel a joy that is derived from conscious thought and inanimate purpose. I write because it makes me feel good and powerful and smart. I write for myself, and hope that others will benefit from my words as well.