Friends and family ask why I spend so much time writing. They either ask:
Why don’t you open up your own practice and make some real money?
Or
Why don’t you just take it easy?
To the first question: Actually, I drew up a business plan a long time ago. It includes everything from how much starting capital I would need to which cities contain the best patient demographics for my intended style of practice. But I realized that running a successful business takes all the time one can spare–time that I could spend writing.
To the second question: Actually, I do “take it easy.” I make time for work, but I also make time for play.
Ok, they say. But why write in the first place?
Maybe because when I was younger, I craved social connection but was crippled by my shyness. Or maybe because I lacked guidance, especially when it came to dating. Or maybe because when my home life flipped upside down, when I received nothing but rejection letters from the universities I applied to, when my health faltered in various ways, I needed a voice of encouragement.
When I found that I wasn’t the only one who struggled through life, I realized that I had to become my own voice of encouragement–that steady, serene voice that says: “Everything’s going to be ok. Keep going. You’ll get there.”
I’ve always wanted to go back in time to help my previous self along. To let that scared, confused teenager know that he’s going to turn out just fine. To tell him: Life is uncharitably short, and that the time to act is always now, not later.
Maybe that’s why I write. Or, maybe, the reason is much simpler than that:
I write because I like to.
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