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Why I Write

Updated: Aug 11, 2019

This week's writing group prompt: why do you write?

Image courtesy of Calum MacAulay

Shouting into the Wind

by Mark Braidwood


I’m certainly aware when I’m talking to myself, but never sure when I’m writing to myself. I write for many reasons, some of which require nothing of anybody, no feedback, no validation. It merely feels good to write, and I think about it constantly.

But who wants to shout into the wind? To have our words spirited away as soon as they are born? Publication is not validation, it’s not even inspiration. But it’s there, a destination that beckons, a shadow that follows…

When I hear how science fiction is derided it makes me want to publish, to prove that it can be more than light sabres and launch pads. It is an arena for ideas that desperately need to battle before us. Nothing less than the future is at stake.


The Urge

by Meg Mooney


Often I find inspiration when my world is stable and peaceful but more often than not when life becomes difficult and full of uncertainty.

I guess where I find greatest inspiration arises from human frailties, as well as warmth and loving relationships. But other things can inspire me as well: new landscapes, cities anywhere, and just watching people going about their lives.

Some days I have trouble finding inspiration and instead want to curl up somewhere quiet and escape from it all. But one thing is for certain. I always feel the urge to write again, which seems to anchor me back into the reality of life.

Belonging to a writers’ group here at The Rocks in Sydney is an essential part of my writing practice.





Hidden

by Jim Piotrowski


I have a hidden psychological problem. I hide it from myself and I don’t know what it is.

I think it must be inter-generational. Both my parents have the same problem. As do my brother and sister. But we never discussed it growing up.

We all share it. We know it’s there but we don’t need to talk about it. It’s just there, like the air. So no one ever feels the need to understand it.


That is what inspires me to write. Not the challenge of writing a way around the problem, but to surround it, to capture its intent and never have the need to say its name.



Stuck Inside My Head

by Marjorie Banks


I write because a story Is stuck inside my head

So a part of me endures Long after I am dead


Unreserved praise is nice Likewise glowing critique But if you’ve negative feedback I’d rather you don’t speak.

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