The Why

For my workshop this week, I attempted to define the 'why' of my writing. Why I Write. As in George Orwell, Joan Didion, and probably every other Person Who Writes, from international prizewinners right on down to teenage diarists. There's no shortage of essay material by writers on writing, specifically on their own writing. We are of foremost interest to ourselves.

It's a stirring exercise, digging for your 'why'. I'm not going to post my entire scattered self-analysis here (yet), but I do want to share one major revelation: I write to be read.

In an effort to clean up the ghastly mess that is my hard drive, I've been rereading a lot of old files, trying to toss what no longer means anything and to consolidate and archive what still does. I came across the journal I kept a few years ago and noticed how full of holes it is, how it doesn't really hold a sense of what my life looked/felt/smelled like at the time. My entries skip weeks on end, sometimes. I gloss over important events or leave them out entirely. I write too little of the good nothing and too much of the nothing nothing.

Here's a sentence lifted right out of that old journal: "I went grocery shopping tonight and have the uneasy feeling that a reckless turn may have jolted one of my yogurts out of the bag and onto the floor of my car, where it still sits."

Hahahahaha. See? This is such unbelievable crap that sharing it with you actually elevates it. Sharing it makes it mean something - even if what it means is that I'm vapid and in need of serious help. The problem with my journal was that it lacked an audience. It lived in a password-protected computer bubble, it was never meant to breathe outside air. And that's no good. That means I wasn't working to be especially honest (nobody to gasp), impressive (nobody to whistle), or original (nobody to call me on the cliches). I am a person who likes a response. I've always classified myself as an introspective introvert, but that's just a part-time truth; I love to put on a show. And I need to.

So, please know that I appreciate the fact that you're reading this. There may only be four or five of you, but you're saving me. Me and my yogurt.