I spent ten days vacationing on the Oregon coast earlier this month and figured out, after seven years of writing full-time, why I write.

As you might imagine, writers write for different reasons.  Some write to put food on the table.  (Trust me, my children would starve if I tried to feed them off my advances.)  Some write for immortality.  Shakespeare, anyone?  Some write because they have a particular story to tell.  Some write because they’d go insane without the outlet (and some of those go insane anyway).  I thought I wrote for a combination of all those reasons.  I was wrong….

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