Compelled

I've officially reached an internal milestone, and I'm proud to share it. No, I didn't get an agent. Still workin' on that. Hence the "internal," but I wanted to clear that up up front.

This isn't one of those milestones that you can point to and say, then--right then-- is when it happened. It's more a cumulative one that I've just realized was there.

I figured out why I want to write.

See, before, I just felt this drive--this urge-- this need to write. It made no sense and gave me no reasons. I just had stories in my head and I wanted them on paper.

Or did I?

Once my first novel was done, I was excited to start querying. I, like so many others before and after me, was self-assured that *I* was different. That my first query might land me an agent because isn't that the way it's supposed to happen?

But even when the rejections started pouring in, and then as I realized that that story probably wasn't going anywhere, and then got the idea for and started writing my second novel, I didn't really get why I was doing any of this. What was I expecting to get from this, anyway?

And you know, I didn't figure it out until very recently. I was thinking about, you know, everything and started to ask myself those questions. Why? Was it money? No. My immediate and firm reaction was that I didn't care about the money. Was it fame? No. Not likely to happen anyway, and it's not what's driving me-- at least not the paparazzi kind of fame.

I realized, what it is, is that I want to walk into a bookstore and see my book on the shelf. I want to hear people talk about my book and how it's touched them and how they've grown or learned from it. I want my stories to be out there, for people to share with their friends and family. MY words, preserved in time, touching people. I want my books to last.

So yes, I DO want to be published. But it's not for money or fame. Personally, I don't care if people remember my name, so long as they remember my stories.

Have you figured out why you write?