With all of the people who start writing a book, few are the ones who finish, and fewer still the ones whose work is published. All this, only to be added to an endless list of authors whose books line some shelf somewhere with no guarantee that they will ever be read not to mention enjoyed. So why write?
This seemingly impossible journey comes with no finish line that can be seen from the start and no guarantee of any end product that is worth being read. How is success defined for an author? Is it enough for ones writing to be loved? Would it be better if that writing helped improve ones life in some small way? Maybe its merely a diversion while still filling ones need for entertainment or just a means of passing the time. Or maybe it is artistic and beautiful and it fills the heart. So why write?
Writing isn't without its measure of glamor. I won't deny that I want to put on a mix of my favorite non-mainstream music and sit in a worn comfortable chair where the dim light from the desk lamp is all I need to do my work. Maybe when someone asks me what I do for a living, instead of telling them that I sell tile, it would be cooler to matter-of-factly say that I'm a writer. I figure it would be more of a conversation starter rather than a cause for awkward silence followed by feined interest. The guilty pleasures of a likable career are only to be outdone by the glaring opposition staring down every would be writer. So why write?
Pouring all of yourself into a work that may never see the light of day. Being unsure of your chance of success, or preferring not to know. Maybe it is just tough to feel like you have something worth saying, or worse, you have something worth saying but aren't sure you are capable of saying it. Maybe I just want to write something worthy of a smile, or a laugh. Maybe I just want to know that ones tears were wrought by words that are sad and beautiful. Maybe this is really all I want. I just want to know my words meant something. So why write?
Why not?
Most people die with the music still in them, son. Why did I write a book? Because God led me to write it. Because I felt that I had something in me that I wanted to pass on to my children and grandchildren. Because I felt that God had some people in this world who would read it be be changed in some way. Has that happened? Yes. Even though I never had a desire to have a publishing company market it, I've sold and given away hundreds of copies. Just last week I had yet another order for ten more copies from someone whose life has been changed, and who wants to pass that on to others. If God gives you a desire to write, then write ... and as with everything else in life, leave the results up to God.
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