Why We Write

A good friend asked me this question last week, just after he shared his latest book haul. He lives in the US, and he loves books.

I answered, “I got busy and lazy.” I then asked myself, Why am I not writing?

Just last week, I suggested to a colleague-friend that she write down her thoughts on her birthday. As to what topic, I suggested an essay on the year that was. Make it a report on the year that has been — things you’ve accomplished, things you’ve missed, and things you’ve wanted to do but didn’t have enough time to do so. She does keep a journal. But lately, she’s been missing days of entries.

Maybe AI has made me lazy. AI can write this blog quickly with a few prompts like this: Write me a writing essay. Use my friend's question, where he asked, "Do you still write? Provide a conversational style essay, but use my tone and voice as you detail my thoughts, including a colleague who I asked to write about her year because it's her birthday. And so on. Try it.

I am reading/listening to Educated by Tara Westover. It’s an interesting non-fiction book about Tara and her journey from being home-schooled to becoming a College student at 17. Growing up in a survivalist family in the mountains of Idaho, she stockpiled canned peaches for the “end of the world.” She stewed herbs for her mom, who is a midwife, and she worked with her dad during the winter, salvaging in a junkyard. Through this, she wrote in her journal.

Tara remembered her life vividly. While she struggled briefly in her English class at the university, she later learned how to write an essay — a concept that was alien to her. Her memory was on full display in her detailed and memorable memoir. And she wrote them all down, beautifully.

I sometimes think that writing does help us remember. Try reading back what you’ve written years ago and wonder, “Did I really write that?” Writing down things you don’t want to forget can be useful. This works if you’re planning to do your own memoir. Or, it helps jog your memory when it often fails to serve you.

I’m bad with names. But I don’t forget a face. So imagine my struggle remembering my students’ names every time I start teaching. I later learned their names by using the power of association, using stories. Writing about my students, my class, and the lessons I taught helped me remember.

Use it, or lose it.

Writing is unlike learning to ride a bike. If you stop doing it, you become dull. Writing is like learning to play guitar — a hobby that briefly turned into an “obsession.” You need to practice, practice, and practice. Practice means you are also reading, reading, and reading. If you stop, your writing muscle shrinks — just like my left shoulder, which shrank after it froze for a year. Long story.

I remember Ray Bradbury or Stephen King writing every day. Both are prolific at what they do; Bradbury churning out one fantasy story after another, while King is on to his nth mystery or novel. They are like wizards whose magic is always on. Their muse inspires them to write hundreds, or even thousands, of words in one sitting.

One of my editors, years ago, shared this advice: Write in white heat; edit in cold blood. What if there’s no more “heat” to trigger me to write? Where or how do I even start? Writing should be a habit, just like thinking. Use writing not just to document your life. Write as if you’re breathing. It is essential for living. Here’s another piece of advice my friend who loves books shared: Writing is reading. Reading is writing. That’s a good statement shirt!

This is how writing was taught in College or at the university. You need to write an academic paper, a thesis to demonstrate what you’ve learned in your years of studying. We all did this in every subject that required typing away your learnings in essay form.

During my Master’s in Journalism, I wrote a 10,000-word investigative piece on government corruption, finding it systemic due to poorly written laws and policies. Eventually, some scrupulous people learn to circumvent these rules with the intent of “profiting” from and pocketing billions of government money (Read: taxes we pay included).

I use writing to assess my students’ understanding of the day’s lessons. The articulate ones get good grades. Others who still need to learn to write clearly get lower grades and a handful of writing lessons, like “Keep your sentences simple.” “Break your ideas into sentences.”

This is the most difficult. Writing to inspire people to act, to provoke them into thinking, to make them laugh or cry, or trigger their imagination — all these through the power of words and the pen. I admit I’m not at this level yet.

Poetry, for example, is not my suit. When words inspire a revolution, spark innovation, or lead to disruption, that makes writing a God-given talent that can make history, unify a nation, bring down dictators, or simply correct a mistake that leaves a lasting impression.

Are love letters meant to inspire love? I think so. Ask my wife who received handwritten letters from me when I was wooing her more than 20 years ago. Shakespeare wrote about love, about falling in love, and about falling out of love. Shakespeare is in love. Inspired writing turned into sonnets, tragedy, and comedy.

Writing lyrics and music is fun, especially when it turns a stadiumful of people into a cacophony of choruses—all singing the same tune, and lyrics written by an inspired writer.

Whatever your reasons are, writing is and should be as natural as breathing. Inhale and exhale. Write and read. Read and write. Tell a story. Exercise. Remember. Learn. Inspire.

Do I still write? Yes.