Why do I create?
A question creators of all types end up asking themselves or getting asked at some point in time. There are many different answers to that question, ranging from escapism to just plain making a difference. Some people just want to scratch the surface of humanity, want to create something that'll exist forever.
But what about me? Why do I create?
My reasons have shifted and changed over the years. Originally, it was because people told me I was good at it. My little child self handed in it's first ever actual piece of writing to a teacher. The teacher didn't recoil or tell me how bad the grammar was - as teachers are generally told not to do those things. Instead she just smiled and told me that it was good.
Then I started to create because it made me happy. By which I mean - thinking I was good at something made me happy. All of a sudden, I wasn't a kid anymore and the my world flipped on it's head. I won't bore you with details, but the older I got the more writing and reading became about escapism.
Then the world righted itself again and I no longer needed to escape. I wrote to finish something, to prove to myself that I could actually finish something. To prove to myself that I'd chosen the right skill set.
The novel is finished. I'm back at square one. Now what? Now, what do I create for? Now, who do I write for? Was it fair to even ask myself that question when I couldn't seem to even create anymore?
I have the ideas, the spare time, the skill, the planning, but for some reason I can't create like I want to. Could it be that I've forgotten to write for myself? Could it be that I've forgotten how to write without reason, without caring, without overly complicated subplots and overthinking things?
A teacher once told me that my writing had a special voice. That even at a young age, I seemed to have my own style, my own unique way of telling a story. That's why it was special - because it was me. Because the only person I was looking to please was myself.
Why do I create?
Reactions. Having emotions, the strange things that they are, in the palm of your hand. Getting people to laugh, getting people to cry, getting people to feel. That's why I tell stories, why I write, why I say that silly one-liner I thought of in the middle of class.
Reactions. The evidence that humans can feel emotions. When you're sad, you cry. When you're happy, you laugh. When you're afraid, you shrink.
Reactions. Emotions. Feelings. However you want to see it.
The moment you start typing, writing, painting, drawing, singing, speaking - whatever, it's right between your fingertips. Even if it's just for a second.
