I was recently asked why I write what I do. I always thought that question would be easy. The words would flow out of my mouth like a river released from a dam. Boy was I wrong.
I sat there like a dummy unable to form even basic sentences. How could I write as many books as I have and not have an idea of why I write them? It seemed I had some thinking to do.
I went back to the beginning, to my very first book (it’s dreadful) and reading through everything I’d written since. I realized that in almost every story I wrote, my heroine started out as a damsel in distress in need of rescuing but as the story progressed, they find the strength to save themselves.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how much those stories mirrored my own journey. I fight depression. There are days I can’t even get out of bed and I’m convinced that I’m worthless, that no words I write are even worth the digital ink.
There are days I don’t write a word. If I do get out of bed, it’s to sit on the couch in the dark, staring at the black screen of the television, not even having the energy to turn it on.
Despite that, I’ve always managed to break through the haze eventually and write. Once I start, I loose myself in words and find my inner strength. I feel like that is why my characters find the strength to save themselves. I feel I need to write those stories and that by getting my characters from distressed to courageous, I too, can find my way.
Writing makes me happy. I find a joy in it that I never realized was possible. Even on my darkest days, I still love being a writer.
What do you do to cheer yourself up? Do you knit or crochet? Do you hike (I recently discovered this hobby after I moved to Colorado.) Do you read? There are so many ways to feel joy and I hope that all of you have something in your lives that makes you happy.