Why write? That’s the short version of the question. The long one is:
Why am I in love with something that has already been the cause of regular insomnia? A career that will most likely earn me a huge percentage less than my previous work? One that makes me very unsociable at times, forgetting to do things like cook dinner and call my friends? A path that has seen me sit staring blankly at a computer screen for a week at a time, utterly overwhelmed with the tasks I’ve taken on? Something that takes over my mind, making me wish my brain had an off switch so that I could just MAKE IT STOP.
Because I’ve never found something before that I could stand here and say, I can’t give up. I’ve never been such a workaholic. I can now lose myself in my work with such passion and abandon for all else. It’s a rarity to have that in life, so I’m grabbing it with both hands and claiming it. Through the times of uncertainty and pressure, I learn so much and come through with a mind full of ideas. And the adrenalin rush of having an amazing idea that just has to be written, of finding exactly the right words and getting them out of my buzzing brain, is an incredible feeling.
I have never seen a community of such generous people, willing to help and give up their time for a beginner, as writers. I want to be a part of that. I always, always, even as a young child, knew there was more for me than what I’ve lived so far. I was lucky enough to have a dream and and I am fortunate to be able to chase it.
Never before have I honestly been able to say, I’m happy, without clarifying it with a ‘but’.
I am well and truly addicted and there’s no stopping me now.