hopewrites
Crochet Streamer
The short answer is memories, friends, and a love of self. or maybe just love.
But the short answer doesn't do justice to the real answer.
Being an introvert the world inside my head/ heart is my real home, and the place i write from. it is my refuge in the storms of life, my garden of tranquility, a place of meditation, a place of creation, an ever evolving world where all my dreams and fears are born and die. Having dyslexia makes comunication from the world within to the world without difficult. Hex said "I write because it's what I do, I don't know why more people don't" and for me telling stories has always been this way. It is the bridge from my world to someone elses. This is where the 'love of self' part of the answer comes in, I love my world, therefor, I write about it.
But I didn't start writing until very recently, and it was playing Dungeons and Dragons and other Roll Playing/ Story Telling games that taught my friends what a rich imagination I had to draw from and those friends then encouraged me to develop my talent for story telling, by letting go of my fear of miss-spelling and my dread of never feeling confidant about my grammar. It was my friends who said to me "it doesn't matter if the grammar kills us, it doesn't matter if we have to have you in a voice chat to ask what the heck you were trying to spell, write it out!! Tell us your stories! You are doing a disservice to the world by hiding in your head like this!" Thus by constant coaxing did my world blossom before their eyes, by constant correction and patient assistance my spelling and grammar improves.
I have left behind the friends who first encouraged my efforts, the roll players who basked in the detail rich worlds I painted with purple prose about them. The characters whom I guided through the worlds of others, and who, in return, guided my feet to new experiences and new thoughts. But their memories remain.
I love the line from the movie Martian Child, at the beginning where John Cusack's character is being interviewed, where he said something to the effect of "I could have paid thousands of dollars to spend years in therapy. But I chose to be a writer instead and now people pay me to be crazy."
All I know is that since I started writing it has been easier for the people in my life who love me to get to know me better. It has been easier for me to communicate to them the thoughts and feelings and ideas that make up who I am. And that is all the motivation I will ever need.
But the short answer doesn't do justice to the real answer.
Being an introvert the world inside my head/ heart is my real home, and the place i write from. it is my refuge in the storms of life, my garden of tranquility, a place of meditation, a place of creation, an ever evolving world where all my dreams and fears are born and die. Having dyslexia makes comunication from the world within to the world without difficult. Hex said "I write because it's what I do, I don't know why more people don't" and for me telling stories has always been this way. It is the bridge from my world to someone elses. This is where the 'love of self' part of the answer comes in, I love my world, therefor, I write about it.
But I didn't start writing until very recently, and it was playing Dungeons and Dragons and other Roll Playing/ Story Telling games that taught my friends what a rich imagination I had to draw from and those friends then encouraged me to develop my talent for story telling, by letting go of my fear of miss-spelling and my dread of never feeling confidant about my grammar. It was my friends who said to me "it doesn't matter if the grammar kills us, it doesn't matter if we have to have you in a voice chat to ask what the heck you were trying to spell, write it out!! Tell us your stories! You are doing a disservice to the world by hiding in your head like this!" Thus by constant coaxing did my world blossom before their eyes, by constant correction and patient assistance my spelling and grammar improves.
I have left behind the friends who first encouraged my efforts, the roll players who basked in the detail rich worlds I painted with purple prose about them. The characters whom I guided through the worlds of others, and who, in return, guided my feet to new experiences and new thoughts. But their memories remain.
I love the line from the movie Martian Child, at the beginning where John Cusack's character is being interviewed, where he said something to the effect of "I could have paid thousands of dollars to spend years in therapy. But I chose to be a writer instead and now people pay me to be crazy."
All I know is that since I started writing it has been easier for the people in my life who love me to get to know me better. It has been easier for me to communicate to them the thoughts and feelings and ideas that make up who I am. And that is all the motivation I will ever need.