Some writers say they write “stuff.” I don’t. I never have. I depict worlds wrapped in words. That’s why I have nations inside of me. I write to share these worlds with you for you to explore and I hope enjoy. I write to tell you about the time I boarded a bus during the time of the year trees are clearly fall-touched and rain fell so heavily I wondered if it were that season too. I write to tell you about what it’s like when I’ve grieved — the loss of opportunity, the loss of an anticipated promise left unkept, the loss of who I was. I write to tell you what’s gained in letting go and to share who I’m becoming in the process. I write to try and wrap context around a word I’ve sometimes struggled to remember how to spell — forgiveness. I write to remind myself that forgiveness is spelled freedom and peace for me. And only there, do I return to the possibility for joy.
I write ultimately to invite you into my world, that’s the first world I know.
So, I guess I write to share my first world problems with you, but I don’t want us to stay there. I write so we can explore many worlds together because I am so curious about who you’re becoming too — I believe there are nations waiting to be birthed within you too. I write to inspire you to discover what your medium is — the instrument in your hand that grants you the ability to birth and express what others have only tried to imagine. I write to invite you to discover the provocation of that stirring in your belly — that instrument in your hand. Maybe yours is a bottle held at just the right angle to quench the thirst of future generations, maybe it’s a code waiting to simplify my whole life, maybe it’s a song that will soon live rent-free in my mind, or maybe it’s a scalpel, a sponge, a syringe, a spatula. Whatever it is, may you know that the world needs your art.
I write to remind you of this truth. May it bring you joy.
So in sum, I write because I love these words and I love these worlds — waiting inside of me and you. I write for joy.
I hope I’ve answered the question.