So, I was on a site I visit often called Writers Digest and I was reading there weekly creative writing prompt and beginning to write when I decide to read one of the pieces of work that something else did with the prompt they were given. I was blown away by it and really after reading it I just couldn’t write the prompt because it summed up exactly what I felt that I would only be repeating myself at that point.
The prompt was “Finish this sentence: I’m thankful I’m a writer because …”
and this was this guys response to this that I really liked and resonated with….
I’m thankful I’m a writer…
Because it keeps the sharks away. The ones that are always circling, waiting for you to flounder, to give in, and give up. The ones you must feed, throwing out tales and stories and anecdotes, just so they don’t take hold of you and drag you down.
Because it keeps the blades sharp. The one that you need to cut through a world full of obstacles, of difficulties, of shattered dreams and broken hopes. When every word you write hones the edge, it’s easier to cleave the ties and binds that hold you back and stop you from making your mark.
Because it makes me a destroyer. I can end anything I want to, bring it to a crashing halt. Cities, counties, world, galaxies: I can crush or explode or burn them all if I want to, if the story calls for it.
Because it makes me a creator. I can bring anything I want into existence. I can give life to anyone I want to. Those who are dead, those who haven’t been born, those who will never exist: I can breathe them into reality, can cause the worlds they inhabit to spring into existence.
Because it helps me realize my strengths, and to rely on them.
Because it shows me my weaknesses, and how to overcome them.
Because it is a purpose, a calling, a path to follow.
And because it will take me where I want to go.