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The Question of Why

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Why do I write?

I’m a romance author. I write to please myself, in this respect. I write for the joy of having a place to put down my thoughts onto a piece of paper, to make them permanent and real. I write because I can breathe life into characters and give them the versions of life that we imagine and dream of. I write to give them every moment of every dreamy reverie that people have. I write because without writing, where do dreams go?

Do they fade away into the night as we sleep? Do they stay in this world, imprinted in our hearts until we die? Do they linger nearby for a short time until we no longer believe in them? No. The truth is that our dreams are not separate from us, the dreamers, unless we make it so. Until we throw our dreams out the door and leave them out to dry, our dreams are composed of us, the dreamers. And I write so that others might see what I dream, and perhaps they will share the same wish to see a perfect story fall into place in their lives.

I write to preserve my dream in a sort of time capsule. Somewhere, at some point in a reader’s life, that reader will need a dream. If that dream is the one that I have written, then I have a slim chance to make a change in this reader’s life. I have the chance to make a difference through the words that form when I put a pen to paper and tell the world what I dream of.
So, writing, as it would seem, is a uniquely selfish and selfless act. I can write to give myself an outlet for all of my thoughts as they swirl around in my mind, and I can write to show others my dreams so that they might identify with them and escape their own worlds with them. And for me, it has always been both purposes for which I write.

I write because without writing, where would I put all of my silly dreams of stolen kisses and romantic gestures? Where would my dreams go? Nothing should be limited to the confines of one’s heart, let alone a dream. Dreams are meant to be shared, and I write to send them across the world to the girl with the broken heart and the boy with the conflicting feelings, to the person wondering just when it will be their turn for love and the couple rejoicing that they finally have achieved what they have always craved.

All in all, dear reader, I write for us, for this relationship between us that is now set in stone because I have told you my dreams and you have, perhaps, thought about yours. So I ask you this question: why do you write?



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