To most of those who have met me, it is a well-known fact that I like to write. I am currently working on two chapter books, multiple short stories, and other required writing for my classes. I’ve gathered that other people don’t enjoy writing as much as I do because of the question I am often asked: “Why do you write?”

My desired answer is “Why not?” but no matter how often I get the question, I always give the awkward reply, “I don’t know,” because, honestly, I don’t know how to explain the feeling that putting words into sentences and creating something meaningful gives to me. It’s a feeling of accomplishment. It’s a feeling of joy. It’s the idea that someday, by doing this, I can change someone’s life drastically.

But that would only lead to the question, “Why writing?”

So, a few months ago, I believe I figured out my answers to this infamous “Why do you write?” question.

First is the cliché answer: Since I know what I want to read, but it doesn’t exist, I should create it; someone else may want to read the same thing.

But my second answer is: I have stories in my head–stories that have beginnings and ends. Sure, I can always just ask myself to summarize what happens in these stories, but I know I’ll also be asking, “Where is this story going?” I get my answer to that question by writing it all out.

I don’t think I’ll ever stop writing. I want to be a bestselling author when I’m older; hopefully, one that is well-respected and admired. There are authors around the world that are changing lives and doing what they love for a living. I can’t think of anything I would rather do than someday change the world with my writing.