Why do I write?

Some people might have been wondering what compels me to write.
Why do I spend a great deal of time hunched in front of my computer?
It is a fair question and I’ll try my best to answer it.

First of all, I am retired and I have plenty of time on my hands.
Everybody knows that idle hands are the devil’s workshop, so to thwart Beelzebub’s nefarious plans (I know that he has had his eyes on me), I had to occupy my lazy hands.

Since everything I like is illegal, immoral or fattening, I decided to use my modest writing talent to keep out of trouble.
I write about whatever strikes my fancy, but I also use my soapbox to “kvetch”.
If something displeases me, I kvetch (and I urge you to do the same).

Over the years, I have become a “masterkvetcher”.
I kvetch (among other things) to avoid seeing a priest or a shrink.
Because when something bothers you, you need to be able to vent your frustration.
Kvetching is a safety valve. People unable or unwilling to let loose will soon or later pop their cork and harm somebody.

I also write because I probably have egotistical and exhibitionist tendencies. Like everybody else, I want my fifteen minutes of fame.
And by the way, I don’t wear an overcoat and expose myself to women and schoolchildren, but if I didn’t write I cannot say for sure what I would do. So for everybody’s sake, allow me write.

I always liked playing with words and I also enjoy the mental gymnastic associated with the writing process.
When I compose, I use word-processing and I also make good use of the blessed “cut and paste” feature. I just cannot imagine being in the shoes of Balzac or Dumas who wrote everything in longhand and spent additional long hours rewriting some paragraphs.

I like to compare myself to a blacksmith, hammering sentences into pleasant shapes. And you should know that it takes a lot of sweat and hammering to come up with the proper words and flowing sentences.

So forgive my scribbling impulses and if you like it, let your friends know about it.
Thank you.

Alain

PS: I like the word “kvetch”. It sounds very similar to a blue plum called La Quetsche d’Alsace that I used to be very fond of in my youth