I write because there would be an incredible hole in my life if I didn't. Every so often my fingers just itch to satisfy their need to express something with language. I'll find myself muttering odd little snatches of doggerel verse, just the poems at first but if I don't head off the impending infestation right there, they will bloom into full blown chapters leeching out of me in torrents. For me it is as imperative a drive as eating or sleeping and those last two I will unblinkingly give up for time to get things down. The drive to see it on paper at last. Perhaps some day there will be a pill or a big hammer or something to quiet the impulse. Until then, I do it because I must.