What motivates us to write?
Whilst camping over the weekend, I discussed this with a girl working on her first book. She said her desire to write stemmed from a belief that she had to leave something behind 'for the world to remember her'. For her, a book was the only way to ensure her
This is a common feeling among writers, one I confess to sharing on some occassions. I wondered why this was - why, when we read a book do we feel compelled to be the story-tellers, rather than the listeners? Why is writing and publishing the only keys to immortality?
I think, in part, it's the way the human mind remembers things, like our favourite childhood books. Writing something down commits it to memory - it gives a stray thought a concrete form. Perhaps, as people who desire our thoughts to be written down, the idea of them floating away unacknowledged and unexplored seems abhorrent.
I think it's also our love of remembering the places which exist in our imagination. Everyone remembers Homer for the stories he weaved, but no one remembers what colour his eyes were or whether he liked feta cheese or not. The ability to capture the imagination - which I think is intwined closely with what might constitute a soul - is what grants true immortality in the eyes of the world.
Something like that. Thoughts? Feelings? Comments? You know what to do.
Whilst camping over the weekend, I discussed this with a girl working on her first book. She said her desire to write stemmed from a belief that she had to leave something behind 'for the world to remember her'. For her, a book was the only way to ensure her
This is a common feeling among writers, one I confess to sharing on some occassions. I wondered why this was - why, when we read a book do we feel compelled to be the story-tellers, rather than the listeners? Why is writing and publishing the only keys to immortality?
I think, in part, it's the way the human mind remembers things, like our favourite childhood books. Writing something down commits it to memory - it gives a stray thought a concrete form. Perhaps, as people who desire our thoughts to be written down, the idea of them floating away unacknowledged and unexplored seems abhorrent.
I think it's also our love of remembering the places which exist in our imagination. Everyone remembers Homer for the stories he weaved, but no one remembers what colour his eyes were or whether he liked feta cheese or not. The ability to capture the imagination - which I think is intwined closely with what might constitute a soul - is what grants true immortality in the eyes of the world.
Something like that. Thoughts? Feelings? Comments? You know what to do.

