Why write?

As I expressed on my other blog, briefly, the writing on Bones impresses me greatly. My husband loathes crime shows and yet he has become well and truly addicted to Bones, initially through my sheer persistence in exposing him to my beloved show. But the true credit for the success of my endeavor belongs to the writers and the creator, Hart Hanson. For greater depth and breadth of explanation on my love for Bones, see here.

Reading Hart's reasons for writing provoked an internal challenge to articulate my own. I don't believe I can be as eloquent as Hart, and I know I am not as funny. I can't match his experience, his years, his wit or even his excellent punctuation. But I shouldn't try. The world has room for all kinds of writers and while I can daydream of being a part of something like Bones (which looks like a blast) I have chosen, at least for now, to focus on something I can do slowly and with whatever measure of deliberation I choose to adopt: fiction writing. More specifically, novel writing.

I am a tried and true observer. I love to sit back and pick apart things from afar. I'm deliberate and I love to mull. I could revisit this in a year, or 10, and while the delivery would assuredly improve I doubt the reasons would change. Hart writes to understand the world. I research to understand and then I write in hopes I can explain it to others.

I write because I want to create something. This desire manifests in many ways for me - photography, working with yarn, quilting, drawing, painting, and more. I feel a primal need to make things and I never make them for me. Point of fact; every blanket I have ever made I've given away. I feel the same about my writing. I cannot rightly claim it to be as altruistic as I seem to be making myself sound but I still do it primarily for the positive effect I can have on others. I write because I want to tell a story. I want to make something in the reader. I want to make the reader happy or sad or angry. I'll even settle for intrigued or bemused, for a time.

It's not art to me. I don't write for the sake of the work. I write for the impact I dare to hope the writing creates in you.

Fanfiction

I have to admit another secret. I have dabbled in fan fiction. More accurately, I am currently doing so. When I decided to return to writing I started working on my plot right away but that is a long way from the point of actually writing anything. It occurred to me that anywhere I could get practice would help me and also that the writers of Bones sure aren't going to give us the whole 9 yards of the Booth/Bones romance anytime soon. A story was born. It's fluffy and romantic and the writing is raw. But 20k+ words into it, and still not done, I feel that I am growing and learning a lot.

I thought that it would be easier than it has proven to be. On the one hand, I didn't have to create the characters or imagine any back story. Hart Hanson and his team have done both brilliantly. But on the other I had to attempt to remain true to characters I didn't create while putting them in situations that the actual writers have yet to do. I've simultaneously learned a lot about my writing and my readers.

I'm not going to link it here as I never want it to be in any way construed that I was attempting to make any gains, monetary or other, off characters I didn't create. I will admit to gains in the area of personal growth but I don't think there's a legal recourse to be had in that area. While an industrious person might be able to hunt down my story I won't render any aid.

I have at least another 10k words to write to finish my story and then I'll post more reflections here after it is done.