What is the point of writing? To create. To express yourself. To help you sort through things. To get published. To make a living. (LOL) To touch readers. What?
When, like most writers, you have a lifelong addiction to putting words on paper (or computer screens) you have to stop and deal with that question…at least occasionally.
I still remember the first poem I wrote that wasn’t a school assignment.
Here it is:
The Gold Each Day
The gold in a golden hill,
The gold in a daffodill,
The gold in the marigolds,
Which climb up hills in little rows,
The gold where the children play,
The gold that’s in the world each day.
Pretty awful huh? Except….I was only about 8 years old….and I actually had the courage to submit it for publication. It was rejected, of course, but I still marvel at the fact that I thought someone else might want to read it.
I wrote that poem to express my optimistic little self…but I wanted to share it….I must have felt there was something in it that others would need or value. And that’s it isn’t it? The writing itself can be fun and wonderful but the bottom line is, that most of us pen pushers believe deep down that we have something to say that is at least marginally important.
And we’re right! No one else has ever lived the same moments we have lived, in the same places, known the same people or been in the same body or state of mind as we have. No matter how our words are judged “out there” by teachers, readers, or 21 year old editors they are, and will always be, uniquely ours and there is something important about that.