Authoress asked why we write. There were some great comments left. I especially liked Luc2 answer.

Here is mine.

Why do I write?

I wanted to be an actress for as long as I can remember. At three, I was going to be Miss Piggy. I mean, she had it all. At eleven, Brook Shields brought stars to my eyes. If I could be her. Act like her. Then life would be perfect. I wanted to live in a Blue Lagoon. I spent hours inside my own mind, even when others were present, and with 12 siblings, there was always someone around. The stories just came. I’d pretend that life was different. That I lived in far off places. Sometimes, I was an only child.

I’d read to take me away, and then I’d act. But always, even though I didn’t put pen to paper, I realize now, I wrote. Oh, I wrote poetry. And in my diaries, which sadly burned with our house. I’d often write fantasies instead of reality.

At seventeen, my cousin was going to introduce me to his agent, and I was moving to Hollywood. Until God let me know that was not the road He wanted me to take. So I studied acting and dance in school. Lived to entertain on the stage or in front of a camera.

I got married, which I’m thankful for, and gave that life away. Oh, I still do community stuff behind the scenes on occasion.

I hadn’t written since college until Aug. 07. It gave me back my make believe. But it’s even better. I live the lives of all my characters, not just one. I don’t chose what happens as much as I would sometimes like, but they are my creations. I also love to have others say that they relate to a character, or that something I wrote helped them. I want others to love my stories and learn and grow from them.

So I guess I write for the same reason many do, to be loved. To create. To live a life not their own. The best part, I really love my life. And the escape is different now than when I was younger.

So why do you write?

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