Why I Write (Or… What Got Me Started)

Some time ago, in a writing forum I belong to, there was the question of what got us started writing or why we write.

I write because I can’t not write.  As trite or silly as that sounds, it’s true.  I get incredibly cranky if I skip more than two days.

But the bigger question is what got me started.  What was my inspiration?

I couldn’t remember until the other day.  I was in a Dollar General store.  They had a wire carousel with books on it for $1 each.  These are all from 1996-ish, though there are a few with more current copyright dates.  For the longest time I wouldn’t buy any books like these since the authors most likely don’t get royalties on them.

Then I realized they are work-for-hire anyway so the authors got paid a flat rate for the work and don’t/wouldn’t get royalties anyway.

But I digress…

What were the books I found that reminded me of why I started writing?

The Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew mysteries!

I bought five Hardy Boys and five Nancy Drew books that day.  I had forgotten how fast a read they are!  I can read one in two hours. 

But they always drag me in.  I’m always hanging on the page, waiting for what will happen next, feeling nervous or scared or whatever along with the characters.

I can’t chalk it up to masterful writing since it’s rather formulaic.  I can chalk it up to characters I know and care about and have for a long time.

I think I discovered the Hardy Boys in 4th grade, when I was 9.  I’m 33 now.

I still love the Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew!  That’s why I write.  I have always thought if only I could write something like that, something with staying power, something that people will want to read on into adulthood and feel the same way they did when they read it in childhood/adolescence.

Oh to be able to write something like that!

It’s a re-realized goal.  It’s something I will aim for.

But for now, there’s a Hardy Boys book waiting for me.

Filed under: writing