Why I write


This week has been excruciating, to say the least.  After being buried over and over this winter in snow and ice as well as suffering through numerous polar vortexes (seems odd. . . shouldn’t it be vortici?), we had a massive warm-up and a nice downpour of rain.  The result?  I’m building an ark to navigate my basement.

I’ve sworn like a sailor as I’ve used 37 towels to mop up the mess.  My husband, being in construction, is always stressed this time of year due to lack of work.  The extra time to sit around the house and either stew or drive me bonkers has elevated the level of stress in my domicile 10 fold.  Don’t misunderstand, I love the big lug with all of my heart but if you’re in a committed relationship (married or not) you know what one person’s stress does to the other.  It’s like am amplifier.

Two normally jovial and sometimes even juvenile people turn into grumpy bears.

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Photo courtesy of Stock Exchange

There is something tremendously powerful about writing.  I can escape the reality of layoffs, the kids fighting, the dogs running in and out 189 times every 75 minutes… to a magical world that I created.  One with bad guys I can kill off, or struggling characters I can lift to extraordinary levels.  I can see, feel, smell and taste what my characters do… and in turn, they speak for me.

I find this to be true for my fellow writers as well.  Writing is a very introverted and isolating career… well, it can be.  But I never really feel alone.

As I mentioned in the last video post, I’m a member of a YouTube Collaboration channel.  Here’s another edition.  Stay tuned for a blooper at the end 😉

 

 

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