Why do I write, hum, why do … I write?
I say I have a myriad of reasons for writing and publish stories. A few reasons, profit, fun, therapy, to feed a creative need. I write for the loving adoration of my thousands of followers, just kidding. Even if I had thousands of followers, which I don’t, most don’t hold me in loving anything. Some hold me in contempt for not ending the story the way they wanted.
It all started as a suggestion from my adoptive father, way back when he fostered me, that I keep a journal and write my life experiences as stories, the worst way they could have ended, the best way they could have turned out. I did, and the work was just dreadful.
All the times I ran away from my foster home, and the time’s dad found me, drug me back to home, he’d say, “You’re better than this. Write me a story of how bad this might have ended.”
Even after I turned 18, he’d come and get me off the streets and try to get to me to live a straight life. For dad, things got easier when Jo entered my life. Living straight and narrow has advantages. In fact, I recommend no one work the streets, ever. I recommend no one mix with bad people daily, never ever. Working in a charity is great, but don’t socialize with them until they are clean and sober and trying to make something of themselves.
Anyway, after the GED, a couple of college-level writing classes, and my work in writing began to improve. I hope someday to rework some old crap and repost it here and the other sites where I publish.
Why do I write? It’s better than working for a living. More importantly, I get a deep satisfaction when I write. This satisfaction grows when people read my work, and it broadens when people like what I write.
If someone loves and adores me, well, what can I say, “BONUS!”
Thank god for the edit function. :)