There’s a seemingly simple question that can tie me into knots trying to come up with what I feel is a proper answer. When asked why I write, I ramble a lot because my reasons change depending on what I’m working on.
I think when I first became serious about writing again, my efforts were a kind of therapy of disassociation. According to my “rules,” I could apply a few of my problems to a character, but I had to make the rest up. Or I could borrow from my background, but only if the character’s present day circumstances were different from my own.
Over time, the stories began to evolve for two different reasons. For my serial stories, the muse was constantly pushing to find the key scenes that I could work with in each episode. There would be new creatures or killers to explore with each installment, but as the timeline progressed, the muse kept pushing for more. Groups of people from prior stories would break up, and I’d have to follow both sides in separate stories. What the muse was offering was good, but I wasn’t sure if I could handle writing so much all the time. She won that fight, because it turns out, I can write a lot more than I was giving myself credit for.