Money. That seems silly

Why do you write? I am, of course, assuming that anyone reading this shitty little blog is a writer. It seems to me that literary magazines, e-zines, literary sites, forums and the blogs of writers are read almost exclusively by writers. We are, after all, a closed community communicating with each other. So, when I ask ‘why do you write?’ I’m also asking ‘why do I write?’.

It seems like there are three options:

Money. That seems silly, though, since of the millions of people who write (fiction) will for the most part fail to make amounts of money that are meaningful. For my part, I make a few grand (in a good year) from my writing. Some will do better, but very few will ever get rich.

Fame. Just as silly. See above. Most writers will toil in obscurity and that is all there is to that.

Because I have no choice. That’s my answer. Is it yours?



  1. I honestly don’t know why I write, I started writing when my social barriers broke down, metaphorically speaking. I never thought about writing fiction before then. I don’t think I was born to write or anything; I’m not even that good a writer; I’m actually, in the eyes of a purest, a rubbish fiction writer, prose-wise.
    I mean film-making is what I feel I was born to do, that’s what I do; thats what I study.


  2. Because I must.
    What else am I supposed to do with the stories? I’ve never tried to, but I think if I didn’t write very bad things would happen.

    It’s flippant, but that’s the truth of it too really. There is no other option. I write because I have to.
    Thought I might’ve stopped for awhile there… a hard drive and then my backup drive failed within a few weeks, and I lost all but a few pieces from the past 5+ years of writing and most of my current (at the time) projects. It was devastating, and I felt like I’d given up. I was wrong. The stories wont leave me alone.


  3. i write, because, like a sneeze or a necessary shit, if I didn’t, things would explode and get messy.


  4. I didn’t think of it as therapy when I started. But that’s what it was. The poem-type things just poured out of me (most quite bad now, looking back). No thoughts of publication or anything, I just had to do it.
    Now. I don’t know. It’s become a habit I guess. A plaything. There’s still a need to purge, to tell the story, but also some need for self-ridicule, and ridicule in general, I think.
    This might sound sappy, but I’m a big believer in writing as tool for self-actualization.


  5. have you read Rilke’s “Letters to a Young Poet”? great bit in there about the “must” of a writer. note “must” not “musk” though they sometimes have those too.

    i write probably selfishly, because i want to know more who i am and can be. sometimes, when i write like this, i think, “people might like me in this way,” and so i submit it somewhere, and it might become art or something, at least to the handful or so of people who read it, and even some of them might think it’s shit more than it’s art. which is art, too, i guess.


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