Noncompulsive Writing
I don’t write because I have to. I do it because I forced myself to.
I know some writers say, “A writer writes,” or “write every day,” or “I can’t not write.” None of those apply to me. I can go without writing for days—weeks even, especially if there’s a long vacation stretching out before me. That might not sound like much, but I make my living as a full-time writer. If I don’t write (or design games or toys, which I also lump into my makeshift career), I don’t eat.
More to the point, my family of seven doesn’t eat. I usually find that notion serves up plenty of motivation to write. I don’t need a neurosis to pull me to the keyboard. I don’t pursue some grand notion of art. I’m not here to change the world—just to feed my family and to have a great time while I do it.
Of course, if I can change the world along the way, I’m all for it. I don’t spend much time hoping that will happen. Few pieces of writing have actually changed the world, and I’m not quite arrogant enough to think any of mine will. I’d settle for rattling a few cages that need it every now and then. In the meantime, I’m happy if I can just get my readers to keep turning my pages.
When I was in college, I set myself up with a dual degree program, approved by the deans of two colleges at the University of Michigan. Had I stuck to the plan, I’d have had a BS in Electrical Engineering/Computer Science and a BA in Creative Writing in five years.
