Why I write

A Story by JaenelleEvans

This isn't really a story, it's an explanation of my thought process when I write.

I write because reality was never enough for me.

Simple acts such as opening a door became narrated at first. The hinges would cry a warning as it began to open, my fingers would tremble, my body would pause for a second of its own accord dreading what awaited me on the other side, and that was just going to school in the morning.

Then it progressed to my thought process, and interior monologue between all possible opinions I could have. The stories then developed from choosing lunch to losing all details and becoming a life or death choice. Then I had to create heightened characters to fit into the world I’d created. Some other people who had the nerve wracking decisions and the excruciating emotions I described in my mind.

The worlds suddenly fell into place around them. A character would begin as a voice, a blasé comment flicking through my mind. Then they would begin to tell a story of why they were like that, why they have that opinion, their background. Then it’s what they’re actually talking about, it steps further away from reality and looks into their adventure, working that one sentence into a scene, the scene into a story and the story into a book.

I don’t feel as though I have to write, I feel as though if I don’t write I’m denying a life, a character their very existence. I just want other people to have the chance to meet them. I want them to be able to live a life as exciting as the one I wish to have.

As soon as I begin writing a world is created and I never have any control. The rush of seeing it all fall into place is something nothing else could ever replace. That is why I write.