1. I think this excerpt really gets at the essence of why I write:

    “Our lives are once ordinary and mythical. We live and die, age beautifully or full of wrinkles. We wake in the morning, buy yellow cheese, and hope we have enough money to pay for it. At the same instant we have these magnificent hearts that pump through all sorrow and all winters we are alive on this earth. We are important and our lives are important, magnificent really, and their details are worthy to be recorded. This is how writers must think. This is how we must sit down with pen in hand. We were here: we are human beings; this is how we lived. Let it be known, the earth passed before us. Our details are important. Otherwise, if they aren’t, we can drop a bomb and it doesn’t matter.”

    -Natalie Goldberg
    Writing Down the Bones

    The short and sweet version of that is:
    I write because it keeps me human. And because I’m bad at math.

  2. Because I spend many hours a day sitting in a room alone, and it’s crowded and noisy inside my head.

Comments are closed.