First and foremost, I write to explore the melody and resonance of the sounds of words. Every word is a piece of art, each encompassing a unique style and presence in both their sound and implication. Words like “persnickety” and “gallant” so perfectly sonically accompany their definitions so that if I had never heard them before I feel I would still have a sense of their meaning. Writing creates the opportunity to work with such words that I admire. Further, placing words together is another art in itself. Both metaphors containing complex vocabulary like “…the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune” (Shakespeare) and simpler words like “Two roads diverged in a wood and I—I took the one less traveled by” (Frost) are different but equally effective ways to summarize great sentiment into one phrase.

     I enjoy experimenting with personal style, and have written pieces that range in their approach. In an analytical essay of Ursula Le Guin’s “The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas,” I formed the thesis, “Guilt fuels Omelas’ beauty, happiness, and growth, and though the narrator initially denies the existence of guilt in Omelas, it is an untrustworthy source as demonstrated by contradictions and questionable language it uses throughout the text.” In contrast, I once wrote a poem about observing a crush that includes the lines, “His little finger twitches slightly/My heart stops.” The first thesis is a literal description that uses more complex language in an attempt to adopt a sophisticated tone. It is detailed and specific, hitting every major point of the 5-page paper. This style works in the context of the essay, which seeks to provide a clear argument with concrete evidence that is easy for any reader to follow. The second poem exaggerates the situation at hand but in short and simple language, communicating nerves. This allows for the communication of an emotion through syntactic style choices. The short words mimic shortness of breath and quick thoughts that are constantly fighting interruption and distraction in a tense situation. It works in the poetic genre, which often calls for greater reader interpretation. It is writing like that in these two examples that makes me most proud, which uses language that conveys ideas accurately while also being stylistically communicative and sonically beautiful. Furthermore, writing, unlike speaking, allows the time to carefully create phrases that are difficult to think of immediately. When speaking, words are instantaneous, but writing allows for the trial and error of language and the editing of syntax and style. There is no rush required when writing a piece, allowing for thoughtful and meaningful craft.

     It is satisfying to collect perfect arrangements of words, but perhaps more importantly, I write to facilitate a self-reflective dialogue with myself. In high school I started writing in a journal as an outlet for all of my angsty teenage feelings and inner conflicts. It began as a place to complain and discuss many of the thoughts I felt too embarrassed or ashamed to say aloud. Journaling helped my mental sanity, allowing me express emotions in an unfiltered way. Writing everything that came to mind was a refreshingly effortless task that I felt was a break from the constant filtering that we all experience around each other each day. On top of this, through journaling, my emotions became easier to define and consequently less overwhelming. I better understood myself, and it gave me an opportunity to reflect. The journal helped me recognize patterns in what caused upset feelings, and see the times that I thought irrationally. I started to write about parts of myself that I wanted to work on. Since this time, I have gone through two journals and still write fairly regularly. It is no longer just a place for emotional release, but also a tool to sort out a jumbled mind. When I feel especially happy or anxious or worried, I combine emotional and analytical thinking in a journal, helping me to better define the reasons behind my feelings and bring me back to normal.

     Finally, I write to connect with those who read. In this way, writing builds relationships between strangers. This is something I know from my experiences reading. After reading A Clockwork Orange I felt like I had built a relationship with the author, Anthony Burgess, who inspired me to view language in a new light, as an entity that is fluid and flexible, able to be molded by different sounds and shapes and colors. After reading his writing, Burgess was no longer a stranger, but a mentor and person whom I admire. Burgess’ work changed my own writing style, in which I now understand that structure is not everything and taking risks is sometimes the right decision. Burgess also inspired the storyteller in me. The tale of Alex in A Clockwork Orange is a dance of good and evil and contains elements meant to shock the reader that seem too grotesque to be generally popular. However, the story has actually come to be so embraced that it is a successful film and the novel is analyzed in schools. Because of Burgess, I feel less afraid to share ideas or themes that are socially questionable.

     I have felt connections with countless other writers in different ways. I just finished reading Lena Dunham’s book of essays, Not That Kind of Girl and found myself smiling and smirking and feeling sad not because of what was written but because I related to her words. Lena writes about the differences in her parents, her fight with her body, her fears of growing up and of dying. These are all conversations that would take time for me to share in a relationship, but with Lena these thoughts surface so naturally. Throughout the book Lena and I build trust, and I feel special that she is comfortable sharing her thoughts with me. Lena has become a friend who understands what creates my happy moments and somber times, just as I understand hers. When I write I try to make similar connections with readers. Before submitting papers, articles, or poems that are published so others can read, I reflect on the ways it will bring about a connection with others. How relatable are my feelings? How relevant is my situation? Writing is unique in that it is a mode of communication that spans all distances and time periods, reminding us of the consistency of human nature and keeping alive the lessons and enlightenments of all people.

     As I write about why I write, there are many more reasons that come to mind. I write to ignite conversation, to express ideas too elaborate to vocalize, to practice communication in different contexts. The endless uses of writing are a reason in itself to write. However, in terms of the way that writing has truly changed the way I interact with and perceive my surroundings, it can be summed in how it drives me to appreciate the beauty of words while forging stronger connections with myself and others. And I hope that here through my explanation of personal experiences and experimentations with words I have hit a nerve with you. Writing holds a different shade of meaning for us all but perhaps its highest purpose is to spread knowledge and inspire—whether the inspiration be ignited in the author herself or those who read her work.