Joseph Sutton's Blog

Why?

That was the question that friends had asked over and over as I sat staring at the cursor on page one, without a word of my novel yet being written.

Why read? I would reply to them.

Most smiled, and only said the all too familiar, I don’t read. I just shook my head and held my tongue. I couldn't justify writing to them. They would never understand. How could they?

Reading is a freedom that is overlooked by many and appreciated by a lucky few. The written word is a powerful tool that can carry you to places far away. With the scrap of a finger or the turn of a page, you can be left laughing, crying or fuming with frustration at the letters that are laid out below. Only readers can truly appreciate that such faint squiggles can mean so much.

But even those friends who did read had asked the same question. Why?

It'll take too long, said some. It's too much of a commitment, said others. You've never written anything in all your life, said all, though not unkindly.

They were valid questions, but I had the answers ringing in my head.

I have read an abundance of books in my short time. Obsessed with Harry Potter, captivated by Joe Abercrombie's talent and utterly in love with A Song of Ice and Fire, I spent hours reading every week. So, I had the time to write instead of read, if I desired. I just had to commit.

True enough, aside from the odd lethargic English essay I had never written a creative piece longer than 2000 words, apart from a few in my childhood that I try hard to forget. The length would be challenging, I knew, but even the English language had never come naturally. I have struggled with dyslexia and word formations, but have always been taught to push myself out of my comfort zone. Reading was where I was most comfortable, my metaphorical cloud haven, if you will, whereas writing has forever harboured a sense of unease. Could writing a novel be for my own personal development then? Perhaps.

Last of all came the most obvious answer. For passion. Writing can open doors to worlds you never even knew existed. You can play out stories that you once dreamed of, set sceneries so breathtaking that Peter Jackson would be proud, get lost in a plot-line way past bed time and breathe life into characters that you loathe, envy or secretly love. All of this, at the tips of yours fingers, limited only by the depths of your imagination.

I had my answers then, but by the time they had been aligned in my head, the moment had past.

And so, in the same way I had justified to myself the moment I opened Microsoft Word, I would only reply with, why not?

148,000 words later, those were the easiest words I ever said or wrote. But after three years and an outcome of which I am proud, I learnt a valuable lesson that far surpasses my achievement.

Others may doubt you, but never doubt yourself.