Why I Write

You must stay drunk on writing so reality cannot destroy you- Ray Bradbury

During a disagreement between my parents and me, my mom said that I don’t face reality. She was wrong to say that I don’t face it, but she wasn’t very far off the mark. I don’t like to face reality too much.

I have my own reality. I don’t mean that in the crazy, slightly insane, T-shirt logo way. I know clearly what is physically real and what isn’t, but for me, what isn’t physically here, what I cannot touch, see with my eyes, hear with my ears, is as real for me as the things I can.

For me, there is a difference between what is real and what exists. Things that we can touch, feel, see, hear, taste or perceive exist and are real. But things that do not truly exist can be just as real if one stops closing their mind and imagination.

That is why I write. Because for me, my stories are real and I have to let others share in this reality. No, there is no fantasy land that exists with a the creatures I create in it, but it is in my mind, my creativeness, and that is enough for me. No, the characters never really walked this earth. No, these problems in these exact situations never existed. But they are real. We can relate to them. We can learn from them. We can draw comfort from them. What we can take from them is only limited to what we want to take from them.

That is why I write.