Most writers, in my opinion, write because we have no choice. Something always makes our hands go to paper or keyboard, put words together and strive to create well-written sentences and grammatically correct paragraphs. Sometimes we don't even care about the esthetics, we just need to get it out, impassioned by an event, dream, feeling, hope or another author. Anything can spark the start of a poem, novel, or screenplay.
That most will never be signing a best seller at the local bookstore or find ourselves on a #1 list does not crush our passion. Even though to some, publishing is the only and a real measure of a good author, poet, and columnist. Still we continue to write and amass pages that one day might pile forgotten or kept by loved ones, somewhere, until the space they take is claimed.
Payment for our art is significant. We feel appreciated when someone puts a price on our words. I have copies of checks received for a few poems and articles, and although I peddle my stuff for free on my blog or social media, I am looking to be published. It gives me hope to know some self-published authors that to me have said more and are better than many “famous” best sellers. I also know good writers who might never publish.
I will continue to write, grateful for the proceeds but not solely for it. I do want the eyes of others on my pages, but I will write because I must: Or what else? Even now when still in my pj's, the news on TV, my husband walks in, and I say, “I just had to write this…” I accept a kiss, and his “I know.” I had promised some eggs and toast, but I glance at the time and its past noon!