Apr 13 2010
Why Writing?
I just returned from the amazing annual conference of AWP (the Association of Writers and Writing Programs), which must be the largest of its kind in the world — it drew over 8,000 poets, novelists, playwrights, and short story writers for four days of panels, discussions, and celebrations of creative writing. Twenty years ago, the conference drew a few hundred participants. The growth of the conference mirrors the growth of writing’s popularity in the U.S. Twenty years ago, there were only about 50 academic programs offering degrees in writing. Now there are over 500.

As a result, our nation is rich with writers. This remarkable growth of an art that makes little money — in a time of dwindling readership – raises the question, What has happened? Why are we seeing an unprecedented number of people, young and old, clamoring to write? Here are some possible answers.

1) Writing is a dream of independence, the well-worn fantasy of living the artist’s life, answering to no one but yourself and an artistic vision that will make you beloved and rich.

2) Writing is power, a means of influencing others, of having a say in the world, of making yourself a leader, an oracle, a guru.

3) Writing is an answer for those who can’t find answers elsewhere — it offers the promise of control or stability or access (to power, influence, etc.). Because it doesn’t cost anything, because it’s portable and self-contained, it looks especially attractive to those who don’t have as much as they would like to have.

4) Writing is play and, now more than ever, an increasing number of people want to play. In the not-too-distant past, grown-ups did not allow themselves to play. Most adults of my parents’ generation seemed to be done (”old”) by the time they turned forty. They were very serious about growing up and most determined to “settle down,” buy the big house, and make good money as soon as possible. But no more. From the baby boomers on, we have cultivated a culture of entitlement: we feel we deserve to spoil ourselves and express our inner child (see “Sesame Street”) and liberate our dreams. Life is short. So write on!


5) Writing is an obsession, an inexorable call to wrest sense from frightening senselessness (take #3 and multiply it by 10). Writing is the web that holds the fragments of life together. Sometimes it is the only thing that holds. If you don’t do it often or regularly, you feel yourself falling apart. This would explain the diary of the late Reverend Robert Shields, as reported by London Times:
He spent a quarter of a century chronicling his life in five-minute segments. In his journal he faithfully recorded his reflections on God and his every visit to the lavatory. He even taped a nostril hair to its pages so that future scientists can study his DNA.
He slept for just two hours at a time so that he could record his dreams. He had three dozen ways of describing the act of urination. At his most prolific, he wrote three million words a year

Many years ago, when somebody asked me why I write, I surprised myself by saying, “I write to be loved.” I knew immediately that this was true. If –- with writing — I can make something beautiful enough, enjoyable enough, sensible and solid enough, then everyone (or almost everyone) who reads it will love me. I suppose this is a variation of #2. And this is the reason I enter writing contests. Every win is a hug and a kiss.

Is that a good reason to write? I don’t know that I can judge. It’s what I do. I couldn’t stop writing even if I tried (but why would I try to stop?). I see now that all five explanations factor into my motivations for writing. I keep at it not because I’m obsessed (though it is an obsession) but, mostly, because I’ll never get it right. Sometimes, though, I come close in little ways and that makes my mouth water and my head spin and I think, Man, that felt good. Let me try it again. . . .

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2 Responses to “Why Writing?”




Introspective commentary, Ron. I do like your ‘categories’ of reason – I’m a list person myself, so understand how doing so doesn’t bind us to exact pockets of identification so much as it just helps us to make sense of the otherwise collage nature of life as we see it.
The jump from 50 to 500 programs seems extreme. As a two-year college teacher, I can’t help but ask if the 500 also includes the AFA programs? I’ve been impressed by the number of those that have developed, as well as the Creative Writing Certificates that encourage people who choose other career fields to not completely give up on their desires to also write.
I have to ask if you think the proliferation of creative writing programs – seen as you present it as somewhat of an indulgence of sorts (’play’) – offers commentary on our society as being one that enjoys more leisure time than previous generations – ? I’m sure in our do-more culture, no one would tell me they have more time for leisure, but in the larger scope of the history of civilization – not having to hunt for food or each plant our own crops, fend off constant invasions – aren’t we a society of greater leisure time? The expansion of academic programs in this area truly says something about our society’s encouragement of this as a ‘leisure’ activity of worth/value.
Funny, then, how some view this proliferation as a devaluing or diluting of the arts – too many writers polluting the pond perspective. What do you think? Is there such a thing as “too many writers” – maybe in the same way that there can be too many cooks in the kitchen?
Yes, Denise, I think you put your finger on a key point: leisure has given us time to write, just as an increasingly democratic society has imbued us with the notion that we are allowed to write, that what we say might be worth sharing.
Irrespective of our many cultural and political short-falls, more people than ever are going to college and the demographics of college-goers are more diverse than ever. (This may change if we don’t mend our fraying educational system.) This too informs the growing desire to get in on writing, which was once such a rarefied activity.
As a teacher in a two-year college, you are on the front lines of change (as you know better than I). Very important work occurs at this level — arguably, the most important work. From what I’ve heard lately, Community Colleges are bursting at the seams. Best wishes in your writing and teaching.
Ron