How Your "Why" Fuels Your Writing
Someone once told me to never do anything without intention. That doing for the sake of doing is unproductive; pointless. I disagreed, claiming that whether it's realized or not, we as humans with an unimaginably complex nervous system, always do everything with intention.
But last night, I found myself questioning my belief in this.
I want to make a difference with my writing. I want to touch someone's soul, tug at their heart, help them realize they're not alone. I assume most if not all writers feel this way. But as I sat in my dark room, staring up at the ceiling as sleep refused to come, I began to doubt a deeper purpose in the words I'd spent the past six months slaving over.
I started asking myself questions like: "Is this plot for anything more than entertainment?" "Will anyone feel something when they read it?" "Will this book be important to anyone?" Each question was initially met with a resounding "no," and my discouragement only pried my eyes open even more.
But then I thought about this belief I'd once shared: the idea that no one does anything without some sort of reason behind it. Just like the characters in our books, every decision, every action, is the result of something we believe in—a part of us that we may or may not be fully aware of.
So I started digging, treading through the weeds of my mind in search of that single flower—the "why" behind my story. I thought of my protagonist; why she hasn't come across as strong and fleshed-out as I wanted her to; what was possibly missing in her arcs that was making my story fall flat and appear as if it had no meaning. I tried to figure out how my potential readers would see her, and what they would hope to see.
When I was younger, I read books with strong, interesting female leads. I've always been an introvert who still wanted to have that above average, interesting life. Reading was the best of both worlds. I imagined myself as the protagonist in all of these books; lost myself in the story so much that I believed it was mine. As I grew older, I realized that this was simply my way of relating to the character, to feeling like there was somewhere I belonged.
I was always the stereotypical introvert in that I was extremely quiet and embarrassingly shy. I was also a little strange and thought I was funnier than I was. Though I was picked on very often in school and had very few friends, I always got by because of my family, who accepted me for everything I was and loved me no matter what. But my negative experience with classmates created insecurities that slithered beside my shadow for many years to come. I was grateful for my parents and siblings, but I still couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be someone who would choose to accept me for who I was, not be forced into doing so by default.
I feel so lucky to have found that person, and there is not a day that passes that I'm not grateful for having found him. But I digress.
It was like a lightbulb flicked on in my mind when I finished this thought process, and easily connected it to that of my protagonist. Whether it had been intentional or not, I'd written my main character as someone who wants nothing more than to be accepted for who she is. But I hadn't fully relayed that through my writing, because I hadn't been aware of it. I hadn't fully acknowledged my "why."
Instantly, I felt like I understood my protagonist on a much deeper level. Her desires are my desires. Her struggles are what mine once were. I imagined the young girl sitting in her bed as I once had, her eyes running along the pages at lightning speed into the early hours of the morning because of her deep connection to the girl in the book. And I discovered my "why."
Ideas flew from my mind the moment I realized that I did not write this book without intention after all. That I'm right to believe what I do. And now that I know why I am writing this book; now that I understand what I hope my readers will get out of it, I can connect on a deeper level with my characters and the story, and push it to the level it needs to go, and I can make that difference.
Sometimes finding your why is not as easy as it simply always just being there. Sometimes you have to dig a bit deeper, really understand those hidden intentions to really understand those of your characters as well. And once you do, I promise you will connect with them in a way you've never imagined before, and in turn, you will connect to your readers as well.
But last night, I found myself questioning my belief in this.
I want to make a difference with my writing. I want to touch someone's soul, tug at their heart, help them realize they're not alone. I assume most if not all writers feel this way. But as I sat in my dark room, staring up at the ceiling as sleep refused to come, I began to doubt a deeper purpose in the words I'd spent the past six months slaving over.
I started asking myself questions like: "Is this plot for anything more than entertainment?" "Will anyone feel something when they read it?" "Will this book be important to anyone?" Each question was initially met with a resounding "no," and my discouragement only pried my eyes open even more.
But then I thought about this belief I'd once shared: the idea that no one does anything without some sort of reason behind it. Just like the characters in our books, every decision, every action, is the result of something we believe in—a part of us that we may or may not be fully aware of.
So I started digging, treading through the weeds of my mind in search of that single flower—the "why" behind my story. I thought of my protagonist; why she hasn't come across as strong and fleshed-out as I wanted her to; what was possibly missing in her arcs that was making my story fall flat and appear as if it had no meaning. I tried to figure out how my potential readers would see her, and what they would hope to see.
When I was younger, I read books with strong, interesting female leads. I've always been an introvert who still wanted to have that above average, interesting life. Reading was the best of both worlds. I imagined myself as the protagonist in all of these books; lost myself in the story so much that I believed it was mine. As I grew older, I realized that this was simply my way of relating to the character, to feeling like there was somewhere I belonged.
I was always the stereotypical introvert in that I was extremely quiet and embarrassingly shy. I was also a little strange and thought I was funnier than I was. Though I was picked on very often in school and had very few friends, I always got by because of my family, who accepted me for everything I was and loved me no matter what. But my negative experience with classmates created insecurities that slithered beside my shadow for many years to come. I was grateful for my parents and siblings, but I still couldn't help but wonder if there would ever be someone who would choose to accept me for who I was, not be forced into doing so by default.
I feel so lucky to have found that person, and there is not a day that passes that I'm not grateful for having found him. But I digress.
It was like a lightbulb flicked on in my mind when I finished this thought process, and easily connected it to that of my protagonist. Whether it had been intentional or not, I'd written my main character as someone who wants nothing more than to be accepted for who she is. But I hadn't fully relayed that through my writing, because I hadn't been aware of it. I hadn't fully acknowledged my "why."
Instantly, I felt like I understood my protagonist on a much deeper level. Her desires are my desires. Her struggles are what mine once were. I imagined the young girl sitting in her bed as I once had, her eyes running along the pages at lightning speed into the early hours of the morning because of her deep connection to the girl in the book. And I discovered my "why."
Ideas flew from my mind the moment I realized that I did not write this book without intention after all. That I'm right to believe what I do. And now that I know why I am writing this book; now that I understand what I hope my readers will get out of it, I can connect on a deeper level with my characters and the story, and push it to the level it needs to go, and I can make that difference.
Sometimes finding your why is not as easy as it simply always just being there. Sometimes you have to dig a bit deeper, really understand those hidden intentions to really understand those of your characters as well. And once you do, I promise you will connect with them in a way you've never imagined before, and in turn, you will connect to your readers as well.
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