There hundreds of reasons people write. For some, it’s cathartic. For others, it might be the hope for fame. I’ve been thinking about it lately, and I don’t just write for myself. Really, I write for others.
For example, my weekly Poor Taste column. This past week it showcased three candy recipes (in honor of June being national candy month) and included my mother’s semi-famous recipe for almond butter crunch.
Or my last food feature for the Register Guard on how to make your own graham crackers and marshmallows for DIY S’mores.
I wrote about these things because I love them - and I want others to love them, too. Maybe it’s the PR personality in me, but I believe that when you find out about something wonderful, you’ve just gotta share it. Having the power to string words together in a pleasing manner in order to share it, and hopefully get paid to do it, is an awesome bonus.
I love food. I am an appreciator of music. I love people. These are the things I like to write about - and things I like to share.
Am I nervous that there are a million other people that love food and music and like to write about them? Yes. How do I feel about the fact that newspapers might be dying and funds for writers are drying up faster than the soil in an under-watered garden? Scared.
But, I’m confident in my writing, and my ability to turn people on to things they never knew before. I’m confident in my passions and in the fact that I can carve out a niche for myself in this huge and wonderful world.
Maybe I’ve got to be a waitress while doing it. Maybe my life won’t look like any of the lives of my friends from college or high school. Maybe I’ll never have a million dollars. Maybe I’ll never “have it all” in someone else’s eyes.
But maybe that’s ok.