Five reasons for loving being a writer doesn’t seem enough, but I shall try.
1. Time. I choose when I work, how much, how interrupted, or how focused. If I want to check email, yeah, I can do that. If I want to Google random things like Steampunk culture or the parts of an oil lamp, I do that too. And yes, I’ve Googled both those things. Research!
2. Creativity. How many people get to say their work involves some kind of creative output? Creative output they love, at that? Not many. Those who can are very lucky in my opinion.
3. The Laundry and Dishes Hiatus. When the writing is flowing and I can’t be bothered to fold laundry or load the dishwasher, I can invoke a chores hiatus and not be chastised as just being lazy.
4. Natural Anti-Depressants. Imagination is like a natural anti-depressant for me. If something in real life is bothering me, all I need to do is turn to my characters and their own lists of conflicts and I can detach for a while. Usually, when I return to the real world I’m in a much better mood.
5. It’s an excuse for being a hermit. I have been accused of being a hermit and anti-social, but I actually enjoy being a loner. Time alone is imperative when you’re a writer. Staring into space, zoning out on the couch, letting the rice burn on the stove when a magnificent scene comes into my mind, are all acceptable. And if my husband dares complain, I’ll make him eat the burnt rice.