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Words to Write By

Thursday, 09 September, 2004

I turned my thoughts from a previous post into an article:

I first got into writing because I loved books. I loved narrative. I loved the journey of narrative. I loved words. I loved how words would shape a world—the world of a novel. I loved getting absorbed by it all. I wanted to imitate it. When I first started to write, my attempts were but poor reflections of my favourite authors (think Enid Blyton crossed with Lucy Maud Montgomery and a bit of fairy tales thrown in). I wrote my first “book” when I was 10; my second when I was 13; my third when I was 15 (all of these disasters are too embarrassing to ever see the light of a publishing hour). I biographed my life at 14. I waxed (and waned) poetic at 16. And then I got into the creative writing course at the University of Wollongong.

Why did I write? I wrote because it was fun. Because it provided an outlet for my daydreaming habit. Because I loved to tell stories and get lost in the whole narrative process. Because it was fun.

And it's still fun. But I find I have different priorities. I have different reasons for writing. Over the years I've come to develop a kind of “creed” statement for my writing. Here it is:

(Read more)

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