Why Write?

I am not sure I can cover this topic fully, certainly not in one blog entry.In the midst of the marketing and the writing and re-writing that goes into bringing one book out while finishing the second draft of another novel, the questionrises in the midst of the chaos: Why am I doing this?

The easy answer is that I love it…but why? Why I do I lovelistening to my characters tell me their stories? Why do I spend entire weekends at their beck and call…taking notes, making changes, mailing galleys to bloggers, etc. and loving every minute of it.

Why am I a writer at all?

Ridiculously big question, but the answer is surprisingly simple. Writing brings me joy. Hearing my characters’ stories from their own lips, and getting those stories down on the page fills me witha sense of beinga link in a long chain, reaching from the past when tales were told around fires by shamans to ward off the dark…to those who fought to keep the printing press alive in its early days, when there were so manywhowanted tothrow the written word into the dust…to now, when there are so many voices calling for our attention, selling us cleaning products and visions of ourselves as victims and vampires.

I want my readers in the here andnow to see something of themselves in Eleanor and Alais, in Richard and Henry, something that speaks to them about their own lives and truths. I hope that same truth reaches into the future, so that when my goddaughters pick up my books as adults, they will be touched and shaped by what I have written. That they will come to know themselves.

Perhaps, ultimately,that is why I write at all. When I am done with a completed novel, I know myself better than I did before I began it. Maybe that is what we seek, when we pick up a book or watch a film. To learn more about ourselves.

For me, Alais and Eleanor have been very good teachers.

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