Despite the tough times that we’re all going through at the moment, I was reminded earlier today that I wouldn’t give up my opportunity to write – my love of writing – for anything else I could have in the world.
I remember that I used to see people moving into their new houses and wistfully think: ‘I wish I had a house of my own to move into’. But rereading an old journal entry recently, I wrote about that old saying ‘What I wouldn’t do for...’ and it must have prompted this particular musing:
What would I give up if I could buy my own house?
Actually, it turned out at the time: not much. I was more content that I realised – and it’s been therapeutic to go back and relive that desire for a home, weighed up against the quality of my life as a renter. But interestingly, there was one thing on the list that made me instantly stop the game I’d started in my mind; the idea of giving up my writing.
If someone said to me: “If you give up writing you can have £100,000.” I couldn’t take it. I LOVE writing – it’s my saviour when I want to escape my reality, and it’s something I enjoy more than most other things. I’ve always turned to writing – fiction especially – when life was challenging.
And life has been challenging over the past decade: Living with two chronic illnesses, having things that I can do while fatigued and in pain is often a life-saver. Imagining stories, creating characters, translating them to the page, and seeing how other people read them is fascinating to me. And, even if the offer on the table was: “If you give up writing, you can magically be healthy.” I still wouldn’t do it. I don’t think there’s anything anyone could offer me that would make that a good deal.
If you’re ever at a stage where you think that writing isn’t important to you, ask yourself: What would make you give up writing?
You might find some of the answers quite revealing…
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What, if anything, would make you give up your writing?
Or, like me, can you never imagine being able to sacrifice it at all?