I’ve not always known the reasons that I write, but for the simple pleasure of it. As I’ve grown into the words, I’ve grown a bit more into myself.
I write because the feelings don’t make sense without words attached to them.
I write because, like Adam before me, I must name things. This is love, this is grief, this is joy…
I write because I am pathologically forgetful. I think there must be a name for that somewhere too, or maybe I shall make one.
Many thanks to Lisa Jo at The Gypsy Mama for asking why it is we write, and for answering the question too:)