Why Write?

Family, friends, and one day raving fans (God willing) always ask me why I write. Most of my young life, I was immersed in the visual arts. After college, I went into business and finance. I didn't start writing seriously until I was twenty two--sometime after I was married. For the most part, I'm a good painter (you can judge for yourself...if you want to see my gallery go to http://www.matthewvickers.com/), and I have a knack for business/finance. The painting is a fun hobby, and believe it or not, I actually enjoy my job beyond the fact that it puts a roof over my families head and food on our table. But, how did writing come along?

See, different people become writers for different reasons. I find that many are people who read a freakish number of books, and simply have a visceral love for the written word. Others go into it because they were English majors, had an aptitude for communication and it ended up being the best avenue. Me...I'm a little different. I got into writing because of comic books.

"So that's why he's never been published," come the whispers of wisecrackers throughout my very limited readership. Well, laugh if you will Mr. and Mrs. Mock'n'stuff, but this is something that took almost thirteen years of my life to figure out.

I started drawing comic book characters when I was nine years old. Through middle school and early high school, it dominated my life. In fact, by my sophomore year, my obsession with drawing so outweighed my willingness to complete schoolwork that I came dangerously close to earning a fifth year. Unfortunately, I was dangerously clever at concealing my lack of effort from my parents. But, like most childhood lies, I didn't consider that my high school councilor would meet with my mother and bring to light just how little schoolwork I was actually doing.

Halfway through my sophomore year, my mother forced me into art classes as high school electives. As simple as it is, this move probably saved my life (I'm not sure if my mother realizes that--I should probably tell her). Now I had an avenue to focus my creative energies. And after focusing, a funny thing happened. I found out that I suck at drawing comic books. Ironically, another funny thing happened. I found out that I was good at everything else. Charcoal, acrylic, pastel, airbrush, realism, surrealism. As I discovered my talent for these things, my need to draw the comic books went away. But, the need to write the stories was never satiated.

I was 22 before I finished my first screenplay, realizing that the real reason that I drew comic books was to tell a story. After 13 years of searching, writing was my true passion, not hobby, all along. It was just hiding behind insanely ripped guys and scantily clad super babes.

Sometimes, it takes a lot of digging to discover what you truly love in life--so be sure that you bring a shovel. If you know how to use it, you may dig up more than one thing.