Jean-Paul Sartre's famous essay begins with that thought-provoking question in its title. Sartre continues in his trademark profound way:
"Each one has his reasons: for one, art is a flight; for another, a means of conquering. But one can flee into a hermitage, into madness, into death. One can conquer by arms. Why does it have to be writing, why does one have to manage his escapes and conquests by writing?"
At some point or other, every writer faces this existential question: why write?
Why write at all? Why submit your work in the hopes of getting it published?
Somewhat along the Sartrean lines of the writer only existing in relation to the reader, I believe that we write in order to be read, in order to be heard.
We write to capture a moment in eternity; we write to feel; we write to create beauty—
We write to live.
Think about it. What does living mean?
To me, to live is to feel passion. And to write, is to create that passion that is to be felt.
And in writing, we create worlds, lovers, monsters, catastophes. We create to be seen.
The moment our audience, our readers, cease to exist, our work ceases to have relation to the world, and thus, ceases to really exist. After all, if a tree falls in a forest and no one hears it, did it still fall?
For me, I write to capture the worlds I've created, so that I can share grief, love, anger, and laughter. I write to look at humanity and the human condition. But if I were to condense it all, I write to live.