Warm Fuzzies: Weeks Four: Why I Write!

Warm fuzzies blogfest

This is the last week of the Warm Fuzzies Blogfest. I know, I’m sad too. It has been a lot of fun celebrating writing and writers and our passion for the craft. J The past weeks we talked about how tough it can be being a writer. But this week we will talk about why it’s worth it.  So why do we write? Why do we put up with the difficulties, the anguish, the fear and the rejections?

Well, I for one write because I love it. Writing makes me happy. I love penning my thoughts and ideas on paper. I love creating worlds and characters that are nothing like me (and some that are. J)  I also like sharing my stories with others. I know I still have a long way to go before I’m publishing ready, but I still get warm fuzzies when I read my stories and when others read them and like them too!

So tell me, why do YOU write? What makes it worthwhile? 

Here’s a short piece from a story called, “The Cave of Crystals.”

Muna adjusted her breathing mask. It was getting harder and harder to breathe as the exploration party climbed deeper into the cave. At first, the climb was a rather gentle slope, then, after about six miles, they came to a steep climb.

“Hurry up, Muna” her brother shouted down at her. “I don’t want you getting lost or left behind.”

Muna took a few more breaths, deep and slow and then continued the climb. She grabbed on to the rope and began hammering spikes into the rock. Each pound echoed in the dark cave.

“Muna!” he shouted.

“I heard you, I’m fine. I just needed to take a breather.”

She looked up. Her brother’s helmet light was beginning to get dimmer and dimmer. She had to keep up. She had to push on. Muna needed to prove she was capable of taking care of herself. Though she was an excellent scientist and geologist, her father had forbidden her to go on the search for the legendary cave of crystals, and since it was his money funding the project, she had to abide by his request. With the help of her mother and brother, Rashid, however, she was able to convince her father that her being present would best serve the success of the project. Muna stopped thinking about her father and continued to climb, one step after the next.

“Clink, clink,” the metal to rock echoed around her. It was getting hotter in the cave. She wiped a trickle of sweat from her brow and loosened her scarf a bit. She checked her thermometer. It was reaching 53 degrees Celsius, humidity 100%. She had six more hours of air coolant and her suit still had over 75 % of its ice cubes sealed in the lining of her suit to help keep her cool. She needed to reach the site in less than 2 hours, if she was going to get accurate testing results and samples of the legendary Butah Crystals.

Just as Muna lifted her spike to hammer in another nail, she felt a slight tremor. The rope swayed a bit and a few small rocks loosened sending specks of dirt falling onto her head and arms. Moments after the tremor, she heard a low rumble. A moment later, another tremor rocked the cave. This time, one of the spikes came a loose sending Muna swinging along the face of the stone rocky cavern. She banged against the rock face a couple of times until she caught hold of a protruding rock. She clung to the rock, breathing heavily, gasping for air.

“Muna!” she heard her brother call. “Muna.”

She could not see anything and she was beginning to loose air in her suit. She could hear a low hissing sound as the air seeped out of as a result of crashing into the ragged rocks. She felt a tug on her rope. She was moving, upward.

“Hurry, Rashid,” she barely whispered.

Her eyes slowly closed as the air in her suit hissed. The last thing she saw was a dim light approaching her.