Musing on motivation
I’ve always been a little envious of people who know exactly what they want to do and seem to pursue it with a laser like intensity. I’m afraid though that I’m just not wired that way. In fact, I can’t remember anything that I’ve been so bowled over by that I couldn’t think of doing anything else (well, nothing anyone would pay me for).
Writing for me is no different. I read from people that they couldn’t imagine a life without writing, or that they feel as if something is missing if they don’t. Me, I quite enjoy it once I get into it, but equally, if I don’t write for some time I don’t feel unfulfilled. I think I’ve said before that I always want to write the most when it isn’t possible and when it is, everything else seems more attractive a proposition.
So, why write at all, you ask. It’s a fair question. Short answer is, I don’t really know. Partly it’s because I can, partly its a self-imposed challenge to see if I can manage a full length novel and partly it has something to do with leaving a trace of myself behind, after I’ve gone.
Making a pile of money would be nice too, especially if I could do this without the accompanying fame. So, why exactly do you write and what do you get out of it?