Remembering Why I Write

I remember sitting at the big desk in my grandparents’ office every Wednesday with a pad of paper and a mechanical pencil that I thought was ridiculously old (though I found out just a short while ago that they were just meant to look old, but were in fact brand new).  While my grandpa was at work and my grandma was baking cookies, I would spend hours writing down whatever thoughts crossed my mind.  Page after page, I scribbled down stories and poems about everything from the kids at my daycare, to roses and love… well whatever understanding of love I had at the ripe age of three.  I had no inhibition regarding what words transcended from my mind, through my hand, onto the paper.  What’s more is that I shared everything I wrote without fear of judgement from my family, friends, or teachers.  And I always received a positive response.  Adults seemed impressed with what I wrote, so I continued to do it.

When I was young, I thought I could do absolutely everything.  Not only that, I thought I did everything well.  I am now very aware that this is untrue, especially with regards to singing.  But anyway, it was this complete confidence budding at such a young age that so strongly influenced my desire to write.  As a result of this confidence, writing became a skill that I strived to perfect, both for my personal sake and to continue to impress others.

This absolute freedom and  assertiveness continued through middle school when I still had the time to write for fun.  Whether it was in one of the five diaries I attempted to keep over the years, or returning to stories that I began when I was in elementary school, I wrote for two primary reasons.  As cliche as it seems, I genuinely enjoy translating ideas (whimsical or technical) onto paper.  Secondly, I loved, and still love, writing for others.  I get excited when I can transform thoughts into an accessible form for more than just myself.

I hope that my reader can feel the passion I have for both language and concept.  That when I discover a topic that inspires me, I could repeatedly return to the piece without exhaustion.  At the same time, I hope they understand that this enchantment with writing is not a permanently active thing.  Sometimes I can go dormant, or more accurately develop writer’s block.  Just like anybody else, there are things I don’t care to write about and feel uninspired.  It seems that there is an expectation of constant positivity toward writing, yet I strive to emphasize that this is an impossible standard to hold.  Just as one can’t expect a professional athlete to perform perfectly in every game or match, one can’t expect a writer to be able to produce an award winning piece each time he or she picks up a pen.  In truth, I hope my readers gain a sense of humanity from my writing, not a robotic or unemotional being who happens to somewhat effectively string words into sentences, sentences into paragraphs, and paragraphs into completed pieces.

One thought to “Remembering Why I Write”

  1. Mollie,
    I like that you talk about your drive to write for others. That also motivates me to write. As you put it, you genuinely enjoy translating ideas onto paper for others to access and learn from. I, too, greatly enjoy doing this when I write. As I talk about in my blog, I read with a largely informative or learning incentive, and so I really like to reflect that in my own writing.

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