Quick story:
Recently, one of the students in my writing class said that after reading the short story I’d submitted for critique, she gave her mom a hug and told her she loved her. (The story was about a teenage girl who was trying to work up the courage to talk to her mother about a pretty serious topic in the girl’s life.)
That’s why I do it. That’s why I write. I do it because I hope it matters to someone.
If something I’ve written gives you a break from real life, from homework headaches or taxes or your sick grandma or a job loss or whatever…then I figure I’ve done my job. If something I’ve written motivates you to tell someone you love them, then I figure I’ve done my job. Man, I love being an author – all the ups and downs and stress and joy. LOVE it. It’s what I always wanted to do, going back to middle school. But what really gets me going is this idea that something I’ve invested so much time and energy into can have a seriously cool impact on someone’s life.
So, yeah. That’s why I do it.
Now go hug your mom.
In fact, Tom, the reasons you enjoy being an author are the almost exact reasons that I act so zany and continue to be as witty as I’ve been; My goal is to make one person laugh every day. If they were having a bad day, then I’ve helped to brighten it, even if it was just for that moment. And if they were having a good day, then I’ve helped to make it that much better. Either way, somebody else’s day was made better, and that’s a great feeling.