Why Write At All?

From my earliest years, I wanted to be a writer. It was not that I had any particular message for humanity. I just wanted to write something light and humorous to make me feel better about my own dreary life and maybe, with a little luck, those stories would help someone with a similar life feel better about theirs.

Beignet Lafayette, Cat of the Year for 5 consecutive years.

There was a brief period in my late teen years when my writing teachers in school convinced me that I had some talent and should keep writing. Their encouragement, which I am grateful for, allowed me to think that a muse had called to me and was silently urging me to share the stories in my head. I realize now that if I ever received a call from a muse, it was a wrong number. 

Thank you P.G. Wodehouse for that bit of wordplay.

It's good that I didn't have a message for the world in mind because, after all these years of writing, still not a glimmer of a message has appeared. Unless I get hotted up in retirement, I fear that humanity will remain a message short.”

Whatever the reason, and even if there is no reason, I continue to write.

I have many writing friends who strive to turn out perfectly crafted stories. But not me. I think of my stories as musical comedies; the music plays in the background. I begin with real-life experiences and then look for ways to make them humorous but there must be something genuinely quirky about the actual event. 

When I find the absurdity, I exaggerate it but I don't make things up just to be funny. That's why I sometimes go through a dry spell with nothing to write.

When I can laugh at the circumstances that cause me anxiety, anger, or embarrassment, I feel that I have some control over my quality of life. If I exaggerate the events to make them funnier, so what? The time for concern is when I can't find anything amusing in my daily life.

And so I don't worry about the exaggeration. The story is still true, just a bit more interesting. The Nac Mac Feagals, a race of wee people created by Terry Pratchett, always offered two stories when asked for an explanation. One story contained only the facts. The one the Wee People preferred had elves and dragons woven into it. When people chose the bare facts version, the Nac Mac Feegle would show their disapproval by exclaiming, 

Crivens!

Don't you agree that the Elves-and-Dragon version offers greater possibility for entertainment? And if fantasy doesn't fit in the story, you can never go wrong by substituting cats for elves and dragons.

I suppose the greatest benefit that comes from fictionalizing my daily life is that it allows me to distance myself from the uncomfortable nearness of dark, foreboding thoughts.

In that calm, friendly, sometimes funny space that comes from detachment, I can find hope for today and purpose for tomorrow.