Some write to get famous and make a name for themselves. Others will write as a form of art — the pen or keyboard is their paintbrush. Some are just storytellers. If they lived in ancient times, they would be the member of the village sitting by the fire and telling tales. I’m sure there are even some who write as a means of therapy. They bleed their pain on their keyboard and hope for relief as they click publish.
I’m a weird one. I sometimes write for the logical reasons above. I wish my writing was always rooted in these more logical reasons. I see writing as assembling a type of jigsaw puzzle. You remember those old school puzzles you would do as a kid? They came in the box with the picture of what you would be piecing together on the cover. This was before the time of cell phones and X Box. These were items from the time when entertainment systems were board games. When I write, I see one of those jigsaw puzzles in my mind.
As I write, I’m putting together various pieces and shapes into a picture. But, this puzzle has no predefined shape or borders. There is no box with a picture to look at for guidance. It’s by no ways perfect and there is no exact ending or beginning to what I’m building. Sometimes when I have it fully assembled, it looks awful. I may need to rip it apart, so I can cut and trim the pieces into more pleasing shapes. In worst case scenarios, I may need to burn that particular puzzle and come up with a whole new one. Although sometimes I can pull useful pieces out of the ashes of the previous assembly.
Once the puzzle is done, I can look at it for a minute and admire it. Of course, I only do this if it looks well built in my eyes. Then after an hour or so I get this strange feeling. I want to build another puzzle. All that previous work I did is finished. This is a good word to use for the previous work, it’s finished. I begin to question myself.
Why am I resting?
I need another one of these puzzles to build. I need another beginning and ending. I need more pieces to create in various shapes and experiment with. I begin to ask more questions.
What else can I make?
What other shapes are there I haven’t used?
How can I build it different than last time?
Can I make this new puzzle better than the last one with my new changes?
It’s an insatiable drive. I have endless puzzles to create and assemble. They will never be the same once pieced together. So there’s endless variety and I never tire of them. When my body is tired or I’m sick, the construction doesn’t stop. The only part of my body I need to lift and move these pieces in my mind.
This is what I see when I write and why I write. What drives you to pick up your pen? What pushes you to continuously push down the letters on your keyboard? What do you see when you write? How long is it before you get that nagging feeling once you’re done writing something? You know that feeling, that pull back to your keyboard or notepad. That feeling that you’re not done yet, something more has to come out of you. There’s another puzzle for you to assemble.
Thank you for reading my ramblings. If you enjoyed this story, please share it. Also feel free to answer any of the questions above — in your mind or leave a note. I’m always interested in how others write and what pushes them to write.
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