The Day(s) I Became a Writer

Minions birthday

As far as months go, I can’t say I care much for February.

This isn’t for the reason most might expect.  It’s not the weather.  For most of Canada, February is dark, cheerless, and frigid – the furthest thing from the festive winter wonderland of a couple months prior.

I experienced 30 straight years of that.  But now, living on the west coast in Vancouver, February days are noticeably longer, the temperatures rest well above zero (some winters, it never even goes below freezing), and although it rains for days and weeks on end, at least you don’t have to shovel.

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Why Write?

Why do you write?

This was the question written on a scrap of paper put forth for discussion in a Vancouver writers’ Meetup group to which I belong.

I’d previously made the suggestion that a possible method of stimulating conservation among the group would be for everyone to write down potential topics of discussion on bits of paper which would then be randomly drawn from a hat.  In truth, the members of this group are already sufficiently comfortable with each other to freely converse without assistance.  Still, we tried the activity anyway for the thrill of something new.

Hence the question: Why do you write?

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