Ask most people why they're in law school, and having graduated from one, I believe they'd reply: "To make a buck, of course!”

Ask most athletes why they have chosen that occupation, and though they too can earn top dollar, I think many would respond, "I love to play!”

But why do people choose to become writers?

Writing is a solitary endeavor; in fact, someone once said it is one of the few that "resists collaboration.” (I've tried to tell this to overbearing editors, without much effect.)

Except in those rare conclaves where, under amazing pressure, teams craft nightly comedy skits and monologues for TV, I believe this statement is true.

I'm fairly sure writers are introverts, except of course, when they're mingling with other writers. If you were a people-person, it would probably drive you nuts to have to regularly lock yourself away just to drive your fingers, relentlessly, into a keyboard.

I think the thing that drives writers to write is the same impulse that is disturbing creative types so much that they feel they just have to paint, or to act, or to sew.

It's an imperative, a "must-do,” not a "want to do” type of thing.

Perhaps this is why so many of us are willing to earn so little at it, settling for paltry book advances, and penurious bylines, when we could be making the big money and great benefits, sweeping bar coded items thro

So, my question is probably backwards.

Instead of, "Why do people choose to be writers?” we might more profitably ask, "Why does writing choose so many people?”