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!
