In every writer's life there comes a moment when they are smacked right between the eyes with that question. Usually when they least expect it. Sometimes it comes from a friend or loved one. Maybe you've given them a story to read or you've proudly told them of your latest sale. Sometimes it comes from a stranger. An interviewer, hoping to gain some insight into your approach, bites down on the end of his pen and mumbles it almost absent-mindedly. Most often a writer will look in the mirror and ask it of himself.

"Why do you write?"

Why invest days in trying to come up with a clever plot? Why get so wrapped up in your characters that you actually cry when their stories end? Why labor over the tiniest of phrases in the hopes that it will become memorable, or funny, or even insightful? When you know most people will simply gloss over it without even noticing the bump in road. Why bother?

For everyone who aspires to being a writer, the answer will be different. That's only natural considering that every writer is different. But you should have an answer.

The reason why it's important to know your own answer is that without knowing, you'll always be left with a vague sense of dissatisfaction. It's like the going on a trip without really knowing where you're going. How will you be able to tell if you've gotten there - or if you're even close to getting there?

It's not an easy question to answer. And I half suspect that as you progress through your career and evolve as a writer, and a person, that the answer may actually change. (Nothing like aiming at a moving target, huh?) Well, take courage, it's not that bad.

The first thing you need to do is realize that there are no wrong, or bad, answers. People get hung up on the idea that their first answer to any "major" question should be perfect. Forget that. Nothing is perfect. Accept that things will change and that your reasons will change. Maybe you started out wanting fame, or money, or acceptance, or sex, or understanding, or forgiveness. They are all valid reasons. Not because I say they're valid. But because you say they're valid. Your reasons are your own and you don't have to justify them to anyone.

The second thing you need to do is acknowledge your reasons - to yourself. Again, not always easy. Sometimes we hide, even from ourselves, our own motivations. But that's why we're writers, to understand what motivates a person. So give yourself the benefits of an honest answer.

Third, take time every now and again to check your progress against your reason. If it's financial, are you making a living as a writer? If it's spiritual, are you finding peace with yourself? If it's artistic, are you expressing the passion you have within you? Whatever your reason, are you being true to it? If so, pat yourself on the back. If not, why not? What can you do to improve your situation? How do you need to adjust your efforts to better pursue your goals?

Stating the reason why you write need not be a dramatic or traumatizing moment. It can simply be an acknowledgement of what it is you want out of writing (at this moment) and how close you are to getting it. It can be a very positive moment in which you gain a sense of what you've accomplished or of what you need to accomplish. And believe it or not, sometimes just knowing what you need to accomplish can open the floodgates of productivity.

The key is knowing your own personal answer to the question: "Why do you write?"