Yes, why do people write? Well, how the hell should I know? I can only speak for myself.
Below I have given the main reasons to why I write, ranked and ready.

1. Fun hobby

It really is a fun pastime. Sometimes it can take a while to get going, mainly due to: laziness, boredom, stress, distractions, fatigue, lack of time, the washing needs doing etc etc – the list of excuses are endless. It is similar to working out. If you don’t do it regularly/for a along time, you forget how rewarding it is, as soon as you push past the initial hill.
When I’m in the zone I forget about time, food, sleep, bathroom brakes, and all
reality outside the flow of imagination from my mind and into my hard drive. 
It’s exciting as well, as you never know what will pop into your head. It can feel like someone else is making up the story for you, like automatic writing. And I have to admit that I often  laugh out loud at my own jokes, the prerogative of the recluse.

 2. The possibility of a new career

Oh yes, a close runner up for first position. How sweet it would be to never again have to debase yourself at an interview to get a dead-end job you never wanted. To be free to write at home, or on a beach balcony in Rio, drooling at the buxom beauties below. To use your creativity for your own benefit. To employ your wit, instead of wasting your life with some soul-destroying grind.

3. Competition

You often hear writers say: “Oh, I’ve been writing since my early childhood.” Not in my case. I began writing in my mid/late twenty’s and have been doing so on and off. But since I began reading books willingly (early teens) I have often been annoyed at all the rubbish thatgets into print. I’m sure you have had the same thought: “What is this shit? I can write better that that! Give me a ton of money, fame, and all the lovely sleaze that follows. It really is the mother of all paradoxes; How can it be so hard to get published, when so much excrement sees not only publication, but translation as well?  My brother actually tore up a book once to save the next hapless reader a similar fate. The author will remain anonymous for now – I’ll save the shit slinging to when I’m rich and powerful.   

4. Compulsion

I have a touch of OCD, and that might a factor when it comes to writing/note taking. I often wake in the middle on the night with a great idea for a book/chapter/story. So I turn on the light with the intention to just writing down a sentence or two. Two hours later I’ve got a dozen pages/any scribble-able surface covered with ink. It’s a real pain in the ass to decode and transfer it into my cpu the next day. Any idea that does not get recorded will likely cause the some apocalyptic event. I never get writers block, quite the opposite, I find it really hard to focus on one book/story at a time. At present I’ve got a dozen books in my head, jostling for creative supremacy.           

5. Fame/a shot at immortality 

What is fame? A lot of strangers having no idea of who you really are. Being superficially known by millions you will never meet.

Sure it would be nice to be famous in your lifetime, to get your work recognized. But something that gives me more of a tickle would be to create something that will endure past my lifetime. Like if someone would read one of my books in a 100 years from now and laugh, wonderingwho this funny weirdo Gordon was, who lived so long ago. True immortality will be tricky, amusing people 100 billion years from now, and beyond into infinity.

6. Money

Yes, please. I love money, not for bragging, buying bling-bling ect etc. What I love about monetary wealth is the freedom it gives you. Freedom from worrying about bills, freedom from the horror of gainful employment, freedom to travel and live were you want. Naturally money does not equal happiness – but it never hurts ;)   

(7. Changing the world)

This might go to the top, but I’ll save it for a few years, to a later edition of the list when I’m so corrupt/jaded it will likely be reversed.

As usual, tell me what you think. Preferably here at the forum or a wall post on facebook, so we can get a bit of a discussion going.




Hey you smelly drunkards. Here is  a fun quiz to stimulate your last surviving brain cells.

No Goggling, you sneaky cheats!

20s per question, so think fast!

Questions answered right:

0-2 You must be either illiterate, blind, or a non-English speaker.  

3-4 Ok, so you can read. But you’re not good for much else.

5-6 Not a complete dummy, more of a jackass.

7-8 Welcome to the human race.

9-10 Hey, aren’t you a clever one.

11-14 I said no Googling, you cheating creep.
Greetings, dear couch potato.

I have been a bit remiss in keeping up this farce of a blog, shame on me. But
shame on you as well, for not demanding a continuation of my brilliant prose.
Naturally I put this grave breach of etiquette down to your introvert and shy
nature. But enough of you, and more of me!

I was at a party last week, thanks Helena and Will. The topic of writing came up, due to my soon to be published book. We discussed at what stage you can call yourself a writer. Several plateaus were mentioned and fiercely championed by diverse drunkards. Let’s begin at the bottom:

The pretentious artist 

You know, the kind of person who has never sold or published, and has been writing on and off for the last five years but never/seldom completed anything. And has the audacity to call themselves an author/writer.  Like a waiter, who “really”is an actor.  
The real reason to why they are not published is that no one “understands” their work, even though their mothers and friends attest to their genus.  

There was a woman at the party that did claim that you are, and can call
yourself a writer, if you do write, aspire to become a writer, and identify yourself
as a writer.

Great attitude. This means that I’m not really unemployed, but a writer/astronaut/porn star/millionaire. 

The two-bit success 

Someone who not only has completed a work, but got it published. This book/poem/article did not sell well and/or get great reviews/fame. But still got the official stamp of approval from an editor and got printed.

The one hit wonder

Someone who has published a work that actually did sell and/or got good reviews/fame. Can this person call him/herself an author for life, even though they have not written a single word in the last 20 years while they worked at a supermarket?
Or do they have to keep writing and trying to get back into the game?

I used to work as a factory worker 15 years ago. Sadly, I did not win any awards, but if I’d been employee of the month/year would I have been able to call myself a factory worker for life?  

The struggling scribbler

Someone who publishes regularly and makes some money out of it. Sadly not enough to write full time, but still has to rely on a second, “real” job to make ends meet.  

The arrived

Can write fulltime, and has great reviews/sales/fame.
Has no problem in getting advances, and can so write on
credit if need be. Even has an agent, and perhaps a publisher. But might still
be a bit of a sellout, who has to think about trends/sales/attitudes of
publishers/readers etc etc – and still has to make bitter compromises

The superstar  

Independently wealthy. A household name that has the fame/cash to write whatever they desire. Does not have to sellout/take orders/think of trends/worry about offending readers etc etc.
Free and happy.   

You know, they how become so famous/stinking rich, they don’t have to pay for sex ever again, even though they have lots of money. Unfair, isn’t it?

Quite surprisingly, I am actually interested in your views for a change. Write what you think on the "rants and raves" page or on facebook.

Ta-ta and toodle-oo