On becoming a writer

 I did not decide to become a writer: I discovered I was.  After years of trying to become other people; secretary, receptionist, barmaid, teacher, door-to-door sales rep., artist, cleaner and life-model, I turned back to writing and found it, quite unexpectedly, from where I had as a child.  Somewhere amongst my childhood stories and my adolescent hormone-ridden rants, there was a writer trying to break free.

I write because. . .

 I write because I can exert my power quietly; state my truth and then stand back and watch the fireworks without having to get burnt. 

 I write because I have been told I am ever so slightly mad, not in a bad way you understand, just a little crazed.  And I discovered a long time ago that, although madness is not a prerequisite to being a good writer, it is one of the rare careers an ever-so-slightly mad person is allowed to do – the others being a professional comedian or artist, I believe.  Not only are the slightly-mad people allowed to do this but sometimes they get paid for it as well - which is nice.

 I write because I am good at it.

 I write because I can re-enter situations that scare me and then make them alright.

 I write because my grandmother wrote and never did anything with it and sometimes, sometimes when I am writing, I become aware that this is where it comes from, this ability of mine, and so I continue because of her. 

 I write because it makes my family proud, even though they might not always approve of the content.

 I write because I can take a notebook to the edge of a beck on a summer’s day, the top of a mountain on a stormy one or sit in a boat in the middle of a lake and not have to feel guilty for not working.

 I write because, for a while at least, I can be who the hell I want and get into situations that in real life might cause a dreadful fuss!

 But most of all, I write because it is one of the strongest acts of magic I know.  By simply putting small marks onto a piece of paper, I can make someone weep real tears, laugh till they split their sides, become aroused with passion or open them up to something new and wonderful that they were not aware of before – all by such an exquisitely simple act.