My Reasons For Writing Have Changed

My words create as I speak. What I want is words that matter.

A lot of people are tired—tired of slogging along on their books, being rejected for their writing, reeling from getting hit with this advice and that advice and whatever other advice, so much of it contradictory, then bouncing from one conference, class, seminar, or retreat to another, trying so hard to get somewhere, to accomplish something, finish something, feel like they’re “doing something” with their writing. It’s enough to make a person question whether the whole writing thing is worth it. What’s it all for, anyway?

I get this sentiment. I really, really do. I’m tired too. But also, something inside me is changing. I’m cracking open, I’m changing, and my life as a writer is changing, too. I don’t write for the same reasons I used to. I am shedding old reasons like skins, leaving them like husks in my wake as make my way toward that glow in the distance, that exalted place the center of my writer heart where I am who I am as a writer and the words are all mine, every single one …