Why do we write? Because we can’t not

Writing is a form of translation in one sense, communication in another, writes Victoria Richards

I write because I love it and I don’t know if that ecstasy will ever disappear... I hope not (Getty/iStock)

I’m writing this on the Tube on my commute. A few years ago, what I’d be penning would be a poem or short story; I even once wrote almost a full draft of a novel while travelling from east to west London every day to work (in another life).

Now, my sweltering morning ride is most likely to be filled with opinion writing for our comment section about a trending news topic or sketching out notes for the day ahead on the Voices desk. But regardless of the content that appears within my iPhone notes (and despite the attempts of my colleagues to get me to use Google Docs) – one thing is consistent: I write, I write, I write.

But I rarely pause to ask myself why I write. Why do any of us write? I can speak only as a journalist and now (latterly) a poet – my debut collection came out last week, a nerve-wracking process if ever there was one – and for me, it doesn’t matter what kind of writing I’m doing, for the joy stays the same.