Why do I write is a question I get from time to time.
Most people assume it is for money. It is not. Writing has never been a good way to make money anyway, and I already have what I need in this life. I am grateful for that. I am not chasing more.
Some think it is for fame or notoriety. I was drawn to the spotlight when I was younger. I think most of us are, in one way or another. I stood in it as an adult and learned something important. It is not what I need, and it is not what I desire. I still get recognized now and then, and if I am being honest, it makes me a little uncomfortable. I have learned I prefer quieter spaces.
The truth is much simpler.
I write because I have ideas and stories and questions that stay with me. Things I have seen. Things I have felt. Things I do not fully understand but feel are worth sharing. Writing is how I sort through them.
I do not write to tell anyone what to believe. I never have. I share what I have learned and what I have experienced and then I step back. What you take from it is yours. That matters to me.
There is a sense of legacy in it, yes. I would like to be remembered. Not in a grand way, but in a human one. I like the idea of someone, a hundred years from now, picking up one of my books and getting a glimpse of the world we lived in. The ordinary moments. The strange ones. The world seen and the unseen brushing up against each other.
That is really it.
That is why I write.

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