the learning laboratory at the end of the universe...
This is a common question. My answer varies with the audience. Some who ask it want to be friends with a famous author (they should look elsewhere), others think I’m a conceited idiot. The answer can also vary the audience. Some of them are just interested in what I’m thinking. I normally like them.
The real answer to “why do I write?”is quite simply, because I can. I’ve been a writer since high school. It only took one class to make me realize it was the best place for me, spiritually, and mentally. Reality, however, took me out of the literary world to driving a meat truck, building mobile homes, repairing automobiles. After spending as much time (and money) as I could in University, my choice in woman convinced me to take a job as a tech writer in a munitions plant. Suit, tie, three martini lunch, everything she could hope for in a man. And nothing I’d ever imagined. I thought that writing during the day would discipline to write in the mornings and evenings. It did not go that way. Soon enough I was promoted and spent the next twenty-five years as a quality engineer, manager, director, and other coat and tie jobs. There was an occasional poem, but not much more. I was driven by a dream of a Yellow House. I didn’t know whether it was a place to write about or a place to write in. When my company transferred me to Germany, I knew the Yellow House was somewhere near. In the dream, I was a writer and I knew, when awake, I needed to fulfill that dream. At the age of sixty, I was caught in a “down-sizing” and found myself with money and time on my hands. Soon afterwards, I came back to Europe and I’ve been here ever since, fleshing out my thoughts on the Yellow House, and exercising my mind with short stories, vignettes, and interesting sentences and potential titles.
Writing takes me out of reality and brings me more firmly into it. When I describe the trials and tribulations of my characters, I laugh at my own, and solve the problem of the day without breaking a sweat. I write because I love language and people. I write because I prefer discovery to complacency. I write because it gives me a place to store my memories that will live a little longer than my body. I write to hear myself think. I write to inform. I write to amuse. I write, to write. I write because it’s fun, serious, and…….
I write, because I can.
copyright 2007-2010: john zavacki (the elder)