A writer writes because a writer can't not write.
That's what I always teach my students. That writing is a compulsion similar in vein to breathing and blinking and seeing. At least, it is for me. Everything I take in with my five senses gets processed, arranged, fluffed, and folded into stories, both fact and fiction.
A writer is not what I do but who I am. Anyone can be. I operate under the belief that everyone is capable of writing but for some it is challenge, others it is chore, and others it chocolate - a glorious food for the soul that brings on euphoria.
I can teach anyone to draw out their creativity, forging words to their will. What I cannot teach is desire. You have it or you don't. I can only describe to you the silken, dark chocolate as it melts on my tongue pulling me from the mundane reality to the place where people live and die at the whim of my keyboard. I can only tempt you with absolute power.
People often wonder what it feels like to be God. Writing is the closest sensation I know of to being the Creator of the universe. Whole worlds, weeping and jubilant, people of strange habits and looks, modes of transportation powered by the harnessed energy of a single hummingbird's wings. I can do it all. I am Gepetto. I am the puppet master. I am the end all - be all of the existence of the blank page.
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