I decided I must really be a writer when, soon after hitting a deer on the highway, I was overcome with an intense need to write about it. I couldn’t wait to let the words come. I had to pull over and write.

While pondering why that is I came to these conclusions:

Writing helps me formulate what I am feeling into something cohesive and more manageable. It takes a bunch of runaway emotions and tames them.

Writing, and the hope that someone will read my writing, leaves me feeling less alone. It is a way I feel connected with other people in the world. It allows me to feel like there is someone sharing my fears and joys.

I wonder how the world would change if we all went around viewing whatever happened to us as fodder for our next book.