Saturday, November 16, 2013

Why Do I Write--Honestly?

Writing is not always fun.  It’s hard work. There are any number of activities I enjoy more at times, but writing is the job, the hard work, I prefer to do over all else. I would rather spend a beautiful, warm summer’s day locked away in a hot, cramped room with a flickering lamp by my side than cruise the streets in a black and white, trade other peoples stocks in a feverish crowd, or sweat in that summer sun at a construction site blowing dust out of my nose all day. Okay, maybe rock star, pro athlete, or acting rank higher than writing. I don’t know. I’m told I can’t sing; I drop the ball to often; and people snicker, not laugh, when I act out, but I've always been told I can write. As early as childhood people said I had a talent for telling stories. That’s what drew me to writing, but that’s not why I write. I’m moderately successful in another job. I make a good living, the best in my family for generations. Now, I’m married and a father of three.
Honestly, I write to leave them a legacy.