Why Do You Write?
The DHL delivery guy just rang the bell and handed me my new book.
I wanted to hug him. (I didn’t because such a display of affection would brand me as “that weird American.” Truth is, I probably already have that reputation, and in retrospect, I should have hugged him.)
It’s like when the nurse hands you your baby for the first time. Emotions flood you and questions swirl: Will I be a good parent? Do I deserve this bundle of love? What do I do now?
That’s how I felt ripping into the package. Brian tried to help, and I fended him off. I had to hold it, touch the soft matte cover, and flip through the crisp pages. Emotions flooded me: excitement, joy, pride. Questions swirled in my brain: What will I do with this? How far can I take this ride? What can I do so that my book has the impact I believe it’s capable of making? What if I drop the ball?
I did a school visit earlier today. (So fun!!) One of the boys asked if being an author is a hard job. In one sense, I suppose it is. There are deadlines, rewrites and revisions, inevitable typos, and the fear that no one will buy what I’ve written.
On the other hand, I wouldn’t trade this career for any other. I love writing–for the cathartic experience, for the income, for the ability it gives me to share my thoughts and express my imagination, and for the chance it offers to make a difference in someone’s life. That’s why I write.
No, I didn’t hug the DHL driver. I just said, “Thanks!” and closed the door. After opening the package as quickly as I could, I asked Brian take this picture. Why? Because like a proud mama, I couldn’t wait to share this little beauty with everyone.
Holding your own book and seeing your name in print feels fantastic. Knowing that your words could help someone feels even better. That’s why, even when there are deadlines and the marketing wears me thin, I’ll keep writing.
Why do you write? Share your reasons in the comments below.
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