Why we write.

Is it to convey information? Or is it a higher purpose, something we as writers cannot explain? Something deep within us bursting to be free. A story we must tell the world. But you say it is just a story. It is fiction, nothing of it is true. However, for the writer, we live in this make-believe world. It starts with a thought, then a word, a paragraph. This grows to a page, a chapter, a book. And sometimes several novels with the same character in different situations.
If we do it right, the outside world fades away to be replaced by one on paper or a computer. Our writing about their world brings our characters' world to life. It becomes a joy to each morning to set down and build that world.
The writer becomes the first reader. We go back over the manuscript. We change a word here a sentence there. We work until the story makes sense. It may take a year or two and sometimes longer. We type the last word on the last page. Like a painter, we set back and look at our masterpiece. Then we know why we write.