I was doing something today that got me thinking about when and why I started writing. I needed to supply an answer to that question for someone who was reading (and possibly reviewing) my novel. Sitting there, all I could think was, "Well, gee, I can't remember when I didn't do it!"
So I started asking my frieditors when they noticed I was writing; one of them surprised me that she knew I did it in high school. Lectures were often the low point of my day, but I was always diligently writing something at the back of the class...notes or not, no one was the wiser. I personally know that this behavior had gone on long before high school; I still have notebooks from middle and elementary school with drawings and short stories throughout. However, she made an interesting point: I started writing to escape boring classes, and later, homework. Then, I realized that the stories could help me vacation (however briefly) from all kinds of reality, and it was all downhill from there.
This got me thinking about how people talk about the figurative "starving artist;" if others like me are writing because they lack something in their life. It could be anything, from interest in the person at the front of the room to companionship or even material wealth. The want for something drives the need to write, out of passion or boredom.
So then, what becomes of it when the "starvation" ends?
I suppose the writing would end, although I don't think "starvation" ever does end for some writers. You write, and then you publish, and if you're like me, more homework comes along...but this time, it's in the form of editing, promotion, and more editing.
Writing to escape homework, leads to more homework...what cruel irony is this? ;)