One of my favorite inspirations is a list of reasons for writing that was composed by Terry Tempest Williams and published in Northern Lights a few years back. In the piece, written in the middle of the night, Williams confesses she writes to make peace with the things she can’t control. "I write myself out of my nightmares and into my dreams," she says. "I write out of my anger and into my passion…I write to remember. I write to forget….I write because I believe in words. I write because I do not believe in words."
My own reasons for writing vary, depending on my mood and what it is I’m writing at the moment. Since reading Terry Tempest Williams’ list, I’ve made it a practice to check in with myself every few weeks and jot down a quick list of my personal reasons for putting words on paper.
As a practical matter, having a written record of why I do what I do serves as a reminder of my intent when I’m mired in the middle of a project with no end in site. I can’t count the times my co-author, Emory, and I told ourselves that we were writing American Indian Contributions to the World because we wanted to change the way history is taught. We spoke those words so often they became our litany.
The power in that incantation got us through the cold Dakota winters and what seemed like an endless stretch of peanut butter on day old bread because our advance was a small one. They gave us strength when we had spats with our editor and with each other. They sustained us when we suspected that the project was far too ambitious for us to finish.
Beyond moving me forward, allowing myself to know why I write inspires me to the courage necessary to take risks I wouldn’t take if my reasons for writing remained unspoken. Knowing I have good reasons for writing provides me with a solid base from which to plunge forward into new territory. I’m able to begin a messy, juicy piece of writing that is rich with promise, putting words on paper even when I don’t know where they’re leading me.
As I review my lists, I notice some constants: I write to make sense of the confusing patterns on the surface of my life. I write to find the truth. I write to let go of the things inside of me that hold me back. I write to relive the joyous moments of my life and to exorcise the demons. I write from solitude. I write to share and connect. I write to tell a good story. I write the fall into the winter and the winter into the spring.
I write lists about why I write to remind myself that writing matters. My writing matters. It matters to me and that’s why I keep writing.
Your writing matters too. Make a list of all the reasons why you write. Begin each item on your list with “I write to…” Keep working on this list for as long as you can. Don’t be surprised if it turns into a poem.
Save your list to read on a day when the sky is gray and your computer acts up, a day when you don’t feel so well and would rather watch soap operas or organize your underwear drawer rather than write, a day when you’re ready to give up.