Why I write

Last Updated: March 7th, 2026 I was watching a Brandon Sanderson lecture series from BYU. A student asked him what motivated his younger self to keep pushing on the difficult days. I found it interesting asking myself the same question: in my short time writing more seriously, what has it taught me about why I write?

I write because it makes me less terrified

Struggling with anxiety one night (induced by the latest AI doomerist clickbait), I opened The Electric Typewriter, seeking solace in short stories. A Margaret Atwood commencement speech pulled me in purely by title alone: "Attitude". I read about writers changing reality. Writers as historical sorcerers, as Alan Moore opines. I'm recognizing the wisdom in that perspective.

I sat spellbound, immediately proceeding to On Writing Well. Zinsser describes the certainty in the 1970s of the world's impending demise, one button press away from finality. The words may have been different from "AI" and "LLMs", but the twinned sentiment was simply the same song, different verse.

So I wrote about my conflicting feelings using AI. Though not planned, I concluded that I would strive to be as human as possible, subversively so. Work became easier and home troubles felt lighter. My reality changed overnight.

I write because it brings me pleasure

The glee I felt the first time a simple swap of two words slammed an emotional piece into place surprised me. I never imagined experiencing that raw emotional creativity outside of music. I didn't realize I could simply switch my instrument preference from piano to the pen.

Growing a seed into a scene into a story. Inventing, alliterating, revising. Writing, a recursive pattern puzzle of its own, scratches my neurons in the most pleasurable of ways.

I may be sappy, but I cry thinking of a reader feeling seen, or feeling heard, perhaps even feeling that pain of recognition. A shared understanding in the world. Helping others feel less lonely brings me peace.

I write because I find it challenging yet restorative

I set out striving for simplicity, yet fail consistently. I'm learning to enjoy that failure, showing me growth is right around the corner. Like learning the true rarity of extremes. My mind latches on to love and hate, right and wrong, while the invisible in-betweens rush by. A hard-earned insight from horrendous early flash fiction attempts.

To hold a reader's interest, I'm learning that nuance is required. That nuance isn't found within echo chambers. I need to open the doors and windows, challenging my own views. But my human desire to belong pulls me gravitationally towards others I relate to most. It takes immense energy to break away from that, pushing myself to grow.

When I started writing my previous blog post, I knew I had a lot of conflicting feelings about spending creative time with AI. Frankly, I couldn't name half the feelings if you asked me to. Writing helped me discover what those feelings were, to place labels on them. I can now see my emotions as an intertwining web being woven, instead of feeling captive to whatever emotion is screaming loudest.

So let's be blunt, and call it what it is. For me, writing is self-help. Spending time writing, creating beauty, is self-care. I find it healing and restorative.

I write for the joy I feel writing

Infinite worlds to explore, fog of war dispelling with each word placed. Characters growing in depth as they profess their hopes and dreams... or admit their fears and nightmares. The more I write, the more is revealed.

I love when a mindlessly-written sentence surprises me and gives me pause. And when that surprising sentence is a new twist in the story. The elation I feel when that new twist is clever, heart-wrenching, or mind-expanding. The more I write, the more I want to write. A YouTube video, a game my daughter is playing on her iPad, the trees outside my living room window, all reasons to put words to paper.

Just like writing itself, I'm sure these reasons will change the more I write. What drives me today may not drive me tomorrow. So why do I write, today? Because I'm learning I love it!