Something extra, something deeper, something obsessive?

That last bit about obsession is what it is all about.

You want to be a writer because you have to be. You can’t choose otherwise. It is an impulse, an compulsion, like something gnawing at your soul. Because why else would you choose such an anti-social activity? Why else would you huddle in your writing corner, shutting out the distractions, for days, weeks, months, years, while the rest of life passes you by?

Honestly.

Who in their right mind would want to write?

It’s lonely, it’s frowned upon especially in Asian societies, and it’s fairly boring.

And so, Morrell believes that even interest is not a good reason to write. Why? Interests are finnicky. They soon change. What about money and fame? Ah, ever so elusive.

The great Stephen King was once asked why he wrote horror. To which he replied, “What in heaven’s name makes you think I had a choice?”

And Morrell (a good friend of King’s, by the way) said similarly, “I didn’t choose the thriller. It chose me.”

You must be wondering whether I am talking in riddles. And just what does this all mean?

Posted in Blogathon 2006, miscellaneous |