Why Does Woody Write?

Christmas  in Italy, 2011

This question has been percolating in my brain for a week or more. I checked the stats just now: 658 posted essays and 30 drafts in waiting. The total number of “views” is just over 31400 and counting at a rate of about 1100 per month. Wow. That is a lot of writing and a bunch of reading.

So why does Woody write? Well, the simple answer probably is a list of verbs of one kind or another: learn, teach, inform, illuminate, amuse, reveal and more. The list is long I think. As I have heard other writers (is it hubris to refer to myself as a “writer”?) say, I write for myself, to help solidify my thoughts, or to unravel tangled memories and emotions. I read back over old essays occasionally and wonder what was on my mind when I wrote that, or, damn, that’s good. Bet you couldn't do it again you old fraud.

I write to remember, about people and places and things and relationships. I am now constructing an essay about a rather dark time in my teens, and waited until all the other principles were dead to publish for fear of hurting someone who was close to the events. I find that writing is a purgative of sorts as well. Getting thoughts on “paper” (funny, isn’t it how we still talk about writing on paper and making “carbon copies” of stuff?) allows me to process the daemons and angels in a positive way, and to seek and grant forgiveness.

And of course I write in the hopes that someone will read. And benefit somehow. Well, that part seems to have worked out. Thirty-one Thousand and change is a huge number of reads, and if only half of the hits were actually read, well that is a big number too. But what is surprising is the very few responses. Very few discussions were started when I was trying to provoke. Very few “bullshit” retorts when I was trying to clarify my view of truth. Very few responses. None of the essays have gone viral. Or even sent on to others as best as I can tell.

Why do I write? To write. And later so I can read about my wanderings if I forget.

Thanks for reading my stuff. I know you do.

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