by Karen E. Hoover
Recently I read about an experience Richard Paul Evans had when he was trying to take his book to the national market. One day he flew 3,000 miles for a cable network interview and had it collapse to a 45 second spread. The next day he flew to Georgia to do a book signing only to find that the manager had forgotten about it, and to top things off, the article that was supposed to have been published in People Magazine was cancelled…and it was raining. He went out to his rental car, completely dejected, knowing he was about to lose everything. He turned heavenward and basically told the Lord that He’d given him just enough rope to hang himself. He had an interesting conversation with the Spirit, then, one that has really impacted me lately. It goes something like this.
“Why are you doing this?”
When he didn’t answer, the Spirit clarified.
“Is it for the money?”
“Is it for pride?”
He had to think about that one a little bit more, but finally answered.
“Do you believe that I gave you this story?”
“Then let me do with my story as I will.”
We all know how successful it turned out to be, but that’s not my point. It was that conversation with the Lord that struck my heart.
Just last week, both my husband and my mother asked me almost those exact same questions. That got me to thinking. Why do I write? Why do I torture myself trying to get published, knowing I am going to face rejection again and again? Why do I keep sending it back out there?
Well, I dug quite deep to answer those questions, and I finally got my answer. It is this: I write because it’s who I am. It’s something I have to do, not because anyone tells me to, but because it’s so much a part of me that I’m not truly myself if I stop doing it. Not writing makes me more miserable than rejection ever has. I write because I love to create magical images with only a handful of words. I write because I love to create characters from nothing and make them live and breathe for the reader. I write because it lifts my spirit and makes me happy. I write, simply because I am a writer.
Why do I write? It’s a question we should all consider.