The Writers Workshop: The Reason Why I Write

It had been a particularly long day of writing. My mind was frazzled, I was physically tired from sitting at the computer for ten hours, and I dragged myself into the kitchen for dinner. After enduring about ten minutes of zero conversation, Bev asked me what was the matter, and I told her I was just tired.

She asked me if I enjoyed writing, because I did not look as though I was enjoying myself. I was a bit surprised and I said that yes, I loved writing, that it was my passion. She then asked me why it looked like I hated it, and I said I was just frustrated with my results.

Bev chewed on that for the rest of the meal, and then while we were doing dishes she asked me why do I write? She said that starting a business takes time, that there are millions of writers in the world, each trying to make their mark in the literary world, and it was going to take me time. I couldn’t expect to make a lot of money this soon, that I just needed to be patient.

I said I understood all that and money was not the reason for my frustration, that I didn’t think I would be making much money for quite some time.

“Well then why, Bill, are you frustrated,” she asked, “Why do you write?”

A good question for sure, and one that all writers would be well-advised to ask and answer, for I think the one true answer is important for focus.

A few days ago Google went through one of their Panda changes; I do not have a clue what that means and in all honesty, I don’t care. Still, it was interesting to read the comments from other writers on Facebook. The Google changes had directly affected the views on the articles; in other words, views were dropping like flies on the writer’s site HubPages, and people were wondering what they should do to salvage some semblance of victory from the jaws of Google defeat.

That is when it hit me, the reason why I write. I do not write to rack up impressive numbers on HubPages. I do not write to rack up impressive earnings on HubPages. I do not write to impress my relatives or dazzle a book agent, and I do not write to ease my tortured mind.

I write to make a difference in this world!

I bought into it all during the 60’s. I believed with all my heart, and still do, that every person can make a difference in this world. I believed, and still do, that the voice of one human being could be heard around the world. I believed, and still do, that monumental movements in the history of mankind have always begun with one spreading the word to thousands.

It is why I became a teacher. I wanted to be that voice, and I wanted to educate, inspire, and motivate kids to go forth and do good in this world. I have seen too much sadness in my lifetime. I have seen the abused, the forgotten, the homeless and the rejected, and I have seen the dullness in the eyes of those who have given up hope. It broke my heart then and it breaks my heart today. Nobody should be without hope. Every single person should matter.

And so I write!

I have seen the power of one person. I was blown away by the words of Harper Lee as she spoke out against racism. I have witnessed the power of the spoken word as King shared his Dream with us. I was in awe as I watched a man named Mandela refuse to remain quiet, and in so doing change a culture.

And so I write!

I witnessed the brutality of the Civil Rights Movement. I saw the tears of a mother whose daughter was raped and strangled. I stood in the glow of a fire that destroyed lives, and hopes, set by an angry and abusive spouse.

And so I write!

I have lived on the streets and been looked down upon as worthless. I have felt the sting of economic slavery, and I have seen religious hypocrisy.

And so I write!

On the other hand, I have been privileged enough to see a cripple overcome handicap by willpower and faith, and I have seen a single mother refuse to give up because of the love of her daughter. I have seen firefighters walk into a fire to save others, and I have stood side by side with those who give of their time and money to make this world a better place.

And so I write!

The odds are enormous! How many writers are there in the United States alone? I have no idea, but it has to be in the millions. They come from all corners of this land, the writers of cookbooks and travelogues, how to’s and divorce tips. They will tell you about an ancient war and they will give you great advice on budgeting for success. They offer tips on study habits and they offer tips on prolonging your sex life. Every one of them faces the competition; they all labor in relative obscurity, hoping that somehow, some way, they will reach their goal, whatever that goal might be.

And still they write!

Now take those of us who are the modern day preachers, the coffee house beatniks, the soapbox saber-rattlers. There are days we write about hope; on other days, we speak of horrendous acts against mankind. The subject matter may change but the brimstone and fire do not, for we hear a different voice, a voice demanding that we speak out against wrong and insisting that we raise social consciousness. We realize the odds are not even worth calculating, and still we write!

Why? Because if one person’s life is changed by our words, we will have been successful. If one person is uplifted by our praise and/or words of hope, we will have been successful. Our reward is not measured in dollars in cents, but rather in the amount of awareness that we can raise.

I wrote once that the really great writers, the writes who I consider legendary, are the ones who literally stun the readers with their words. They have somehow managed to craft words that leave a reader breathless, and when that happens….when the mere reading of words can elicit an emotional reaction, well, then, the pinnacle of this profession has been reached.

And so I write!

You see, I am my own worst critic. I have this lofty goal of stunning my readers, and when I fail to do that, I am frustrated. When I fail to raise awareness, I am frustrated. When I fail to inspire or motivate, I am frustrated, and when I see an act of injustice and do not speak out, I am not only frustrated but I am disgusted with myself.

No, I do not measure my success by the number of views I receive on HubPages. I leave that for other bean counters who are into numbers. I do not measure my success by whether or not I cracked the $100 per month standard of passive income. Rather, I measure success by the comments I receive and the number of people I have made a connection with….a real, human connection.

When a reader tells me that they have been moved to tears by my words, I have been successful. When I read a comment that my article brought great joy and peace of mind to the reader, I have been successful. When my words precipitate positive actions and change, I have been successful.

When my words stun my audience, I have been successful.

That is why I write!

2012 William D. Holland (billybuc)