Why?

A lot of people have asked me a question lately, and I'm never quite sure how to answer it. It's a damn hard question. What is it?

"Why do you write?"

I've heard a lot of different answers from a lot of different people, and they range from "it's a release from my daily problems" and the like to things like "I love playing the part of a god in my own universe."

Both great answers, sure. But they don't quite fit for me. Writing isn't really a release for me--it's got its own stresses and problems, and sometimes I come out of writing mode even more stressed than when I went in. And, while I am sometimes and egotistical bitch and I do love playing a god in my own universe, that's not quite why I love it, either. And it's not that I do it because I have to for a job or something. I don't get paid.

So...why?

It's what I do. That's the only real answer I can come up with. Because if I don't, I get agitated, I get the shakes, my breath comes in sharp, quick bursts, and I work myself up into a slight panic. Because if I don't, I feel unbelievably depressed and depressingly sad. Because if I don't, I just sit around doing nothing, and I don't like doing nothing.

I don't know. It's almost like there's this force, pulling me to the pen (or the keyboard, as it may be), compelling me to pour the words out on the page and play with them, making messes and breaking rules, until I get them in the right order, arranged in exactly the right way so they are completely my own and are what I want them to be. It's as if some literary overlord commands me to fling the words out, and I am powerless to resist.

When the muse says jump, I don't say "how high." I just freaking jump. She doesn't have time to waste by listening to me ask stupid questions.

I don't know. I still don't feel like I've answered it.

So. Why do I write?

Because it's what I do.