Saturday, February 06, 2010

Why Write?

Why Write?

I write to express.
I write to understand.
I write to see.
I write to hear.
I write to know.
I write to grow.
I write to create.
I write to get closer.
I write to be better.
I write to inspire. 
I write to witness.

I’m writing because it feels right. I’m writing because other forms of expression don’t capture my intentions. I write because it’s less impulsive than when I speak. I'm bound to piss off less people with writing than speaking– I can slow down, I can think when I write. I write because I can’t draw or paint. I can’t sing or play an instrument. I write because I teach and I tell stories and writing is the best mode for both. I write because it’s easier to do so than anything else. I write because I like it, I love it, and I can’t get enough of it. I write because it’s the one thing I don’t get sick of, because it promises the most possibility. I write because it’s holy and sacred but absurd and ludicrous. I write because it makes me feel complete and whole and fragmented all at the same time. I write because it heals and teaches and helps. I write because most of the time I don’t know what else to do.

*I just wrote this with my students at my writing workshop "Writing Through The Block". To register for upcoming workshops or to learn more please go to Hannah's classes.


#1Nana said...

I write because sometimes I don't know what I'm thinking until I write it down. It forces me to reflect and I discover what I really think. Pretty neat trick huh?

Kathleen said...

Sounds like a great exercise as well as a fantastic reminder of why we writers write!

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Anonymous said...

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Anonymous said...

interesting article. I would love to follow you on twitter.

Joanne Carnevale said...

I write because I can. I don't just mean that in the joking way. Sometimes I think about all the people who can't read and write, especially in countries where education is difficult to obtain, or even prohibited, and I wish I could write something that would rescue them from the tyrants who would deny such a gift. A fantasy, I know . . .