By Jodie Cain Smith
Why do I write?
The answer begins in early April 2003.
Employed as a
puppeteer (that’s an entirely different story), I had spent three weeks driving
Savannah’s Veterans’ Drive watching the Iraq War protesters do their thing.
Mostly students at SCAD, they waved signs and shook their fists as I drove by
in my Ford Taurus. Then, one afternoon, I almost hit one with said Taurus.
Dressed in a white toga, the protester stepped in front of my car brandishing a
sign that read, “Who would Jesus bomb?” My first thought was, “No one,
Jackass!” My second thought was, “Brake! Brake!”
I pressed my
brake pedal just in time to avoid catastrophe, but felt a tinge of dissatisfaction.
My husband was with the 3rd Infantry Division near Bagdad, Iraq.
Nearly eight weeks had passed since I’d heard his voice. I was struggling with
being a tough Army Wife, exhausted from worry and angry with everyone and
everything around me. I needed somewhere to place my anger and fear.
I parked in
front of the Savannah Morning News office and marched into the lobby – a woman
on a mission. “You are giving the protesters a lot of coverage, but no one is
speaking for the soldiers’ families. Our story matters, too,” I loudly accused
the first man I saw.
“Why don’t you
write it then?” was his response.
“Fine! I will!”
Thus began my
writing life.
I had no
experience, no training – just stories to tell, passion to fuel my words, and a
Sports Editor nuts enough to give me my first gig. For thirteen months I wrote
the column “Married to the Military” until I couldn’t squeeze one more
complaint, accolade, or camo-related anecdote from my keyboard.
So, now, why do
I still write? Why do you write?
Looking for a
simple answer, I turned to my friend Google. According to legitimate sources,
Lord Byron claimed, “If I don’t write to empty my mind, I go mad.” Steven King
described his desire to write as a path to happiness, a way to enrich his
readers’ lives and his own. Gloria Steinem stated that writing is “the only
thing that, when I do it, I don’t feel I should be doing something else.”
Perhaps George Orwell proposed the most
insightful explanation in his essay Why I
Write stating all writers fall under four possible intentions, “sheer
egoism, aesthetic enthusiasm, historical impulse, and political purpose.” Then
he cautions, “All writers are vain, selfish, and lazy, and at the very bottom
of their motives there lies a mystery.”
So, maybe the answer to, “Why write?” is not simple at all.
My writing may not make others feel good, increase my online followers, or inflate my bank account, but life, the simple acts of living, still affects me, filling me with laughter and rage on a daily basis. No longer satisfied with my true-life musings, I now work to turn my frustrations into fiction. These stories, this life, must come out. I’ve got a bigger car now. I could really do some damage. Therefore, I write.
So, maybe the answer to, “Why write?” is not simple at all.
My writing may not make others feel good, increase my online followers, or inflate my bank account, but life, the simple acts of living, still affects me, filling me with laughter and rage on a daily basis. No longer satisfied with my true-life musings, I now work to turn my frustrations into fiction. These stories, this life, must come out. I’ve got a bigger car now. I could really do some damage. Therefore, I write.