"Why Do I Write?" You Might Not Like My Answer | The Walrus

"I've agreed to join a "Conversación" in Mexico City. This is not really a conversation but an event where a series of writers from all over the world read a story or an essay or a thing they've written on a specific subject, a subject determined by the Conversación Comité in Mexico City. The subject this time is "Why do I write?""

"I apologized. I was angry, I said, that I was forced to argue with my ex-husband about our arrangement for my royalties. I am angry, I said, at so many things. Men, really, I said. Or, I don't know. I don't know anything. It's so boring. I'm sorry. The student nodded, put her hand on my arm, and led me away down a corridor. I'm sorry, I said again and again. I reminded myself to ask about her thesis."

I agreed to join a Conversación in Mexico City where contributors read pieces on why people create work. I question whether silence is a disciplined alternative after a student advised me to stand back and listen, saying I had a platform long enough. I resist the idea of a platform and fear stopping creation. I express anger over a royalties dispute with my ex-husband and general anger toward men, apologizing repeatedly in a classroom encounter. A therapist friend mentions impulsivity in suicide during a walk by the Niagara Falls bluff, and I doubt my father and sister acted impulsively.

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