What Drives you?

[anthrodisiac]

Wonderful question.

My main drives:
Rampant non-comformity, destructuring social constructs, writing as a tool for understanding human processes, mild catharsis, coping mechanisms, and exploring complex intersections between science and philosophy.

Plus, sexy animal people.

 

[AG31]

destructuring social constructs,

Not sure what you mean. Some examples?

 

[Erozetta]

Boredom and anxiety.

I wrote an essay on why I write and it starts with what drives me, basically:

"I write because I have to.

Writing is a form of communication which can force the other participant to listen to everything you have to say before they engage with you. At least, that's the intent. It's how I get my voice heard by those who would prefer to talk over me. I'll never be louder than them, so I work to my strengths in order to get my position across."

That's basically it. I wasn't allowed to talk as a kid. I wasn't allowed to do much more than exist, be obedient, and be pretty. I'm not very good at any of those things. (I am good at being obedient, but only in my own way. I will follow the rules but there's always a loophole, and I will find it.) But I am very good at internalizing and ruminating on things and writing lets me see things from outside of myself in a way that I can't always do with thought and imagination.

So, the main thing that drives me, I guess, is collecting my thoughts to try and make sense of my own mind in order to learn how to communicate those thoughts in a way that doesn't show the chaos behind the scenes.

 

[SmilingLez]

What drives me - accepting the challenge to export the thoughts in my head to coherent words on paper

 

[NuclearFairy]

Well, the simple answer is, it's cheaper than most other hobbies out there I've enjoyed.

The more complicated one. I used to read a lot, like minimum 8 hours a day, spread throughout the day yes but still. And the reading would spawn stories within my own brain that'd bounce around and morph and stick and sink and come back. And I'd talk about them incessantly with my SO. He never seemed to mind, but I sometimes felt like a pest.

And then, I hit a rough patch with my roommate, I needed to understand her better than I did, I needed to get into the head of someone who'd seen some shit. So I grabbed an empty notebook, and a pencil and I started writing, and my SO asked to be allowed to edit them.

The flood gates were opened.

After that, I continued writing that story, but now those stories that used to just bounce around and evolve, started demanding I'd write them down. I could no longer just think of them as I went to sleep I felt a deep need to write them down.

At other times, I'd want to understand an emotion better, so I'd write something to help invoke it in me.

And complex emotions, I'm constantly writing about those in an attempt to understand them. Like, how can you be angry and proud at the same time? I think I'm getting a handle on it, not sure.

Yeah sure, very few of my characters are human, but I think they're helping me understand how to be human.

 

[anthrodisiac]

Not sure what you mean. Some examples?

Prior to Lit, I was a heavy satire writer. I'm on the spectrum, so I had to break down social interactions and constructs a lot just to understand how any of it worked, because none of it made sense or came naturally. So I spent a lot of time trying to drill down on why someone was, "Cool," or, "Popular," only to find out that nobody could actually articulate a real, concrete reason. All that analysis and realization translated into a lot of my writing, primarily by poking fun at said social constructs. Society collectively agrees on a lot of things that, if you were to look at them objectively, don't really hold up as the "truths" we say they are: race, class, intelligence, popularity, attractiveness. It's all agreed-upon constructions that reflect what society values at any given time, subject to change at the drop of a hat.

My favorite one to play with though, by far, is morality. Everybody thinks their moral system is superior and the only one that's "good," and things outside that are "evil." But then you have another group that has morals that conflict, and they say their things are "good" and the other things are "evil." Who's right? People get so wrapped up in thinking their beliefs are objectively superior, but can't articulate why beyond, "Well, it just is." And there are so many edge cases involved that easily surpass most of what someone says it uncontestably "good," and yet they would still do it anyway because "reasons." Nobody thinks they're the bad guy, and anyone is capable of justifying acts most of us would consider attrocities if it's in defense of what that person considers "good."

In the end, values and morals are all squishy subjectivity and arbitrary boundaries and rules. Super fun to poke fun at. Not even poking fun at any one set of values or morals, which is where most satirists tend to go because they have issues with one moral system or another, but I like to poke fun at the idea of objective morality as a whole. Not just because the idea is rife with self-justifications, but because even within one person's rigid set of morals, there are so many cavets and carveouts that the whole thing becomes hollow, and all your left is the shell and pretense of a value system.

But now I mostly write sexy animal people stories

 

[BlazonG]

I’m mentally pressed to explore the many possibilities of power exchange. Always have been.

 

[AG31]

Prior to Lit, I was a heavy satire writer. I'm on the spectrum, so I had to break down social interactions and constructs a lot just to understand how any of it worked, because none of it made sense or came naturally. So I spent a lot of time trying to drill down on why someone was, "Cool," or, "Popular," only to find out that nobody could actually articulate a real, concrete reason. All that analysis and realization translated into a lot of my writing, primarily by poking fun at said social constructs. Society collectively agrees on a lot of things that, if you were to look at them objectively, don't really hold up as the "truths" we say they are: race, class, intelligence, popularity, attractiveness. It's all agreed-upon constructions that reflect what society values at any given time, subject to change at the drop of a hat.

My favorite one to play with though, by far, is morality. Everybody thinks their moral system is superior and the only one that's "good," and things outside that are "evil." But then you have another group that has morals that conflict, and they say their things are "good" and the other things are "evil." Who's right? People get so wrapped up in thinking their beliefs are objectively superior, but can't articulate why beyond, "Well, it just is." And there are so many edge cases involved that easily surpass most of what someone says it uncontestably "good," and yet they would still do it anyway because "reasons." Nobody thinks they're the bad guy, and anyone is capable of justifying acts most of us would consider attrocities if it's in defense of what that person considers "good."

In the end, values and morals are all squishy subjectivity and arbitrary boundaries and rules. Super fun to poke fun at. Not even poking fun at any one set of values or morals, which is where most satirists tend to go because they have issues with one moral system or another, but I like to poke fun at the idea of objective morality as a whole. Not just because the idea is rife with self-justifications, but because even within one person's rigid set of morals, there are so many cavets and carveouts that the whole thing becomes hollow, and all your left is the shell and pretense of a value system.

But now I mostly write sexy animal people stories

You've given me a new angle on my own compulsion to analyze and analyze.

 

[Not2Pervy]

It’s a combination of things. I’ve been here almost four years now and have written almost 50 stories, so clearly it’s not nothing, but I suspect I’m also not as driven as many, perhaps most of the others here.

It started as fulfillment of an adolescent fantasy to write fiction. Then I found that writing here was also kind of a license to fantasize, and to indulge those impulses. Sex fantasies are fun.

There’s also the challenge of trying to do something well. But the stakes are really low, so if my work doesn’t measure up to my hopes or expectations, all I’ve lost is a little time. Even more so than in my real job, I can get away with half-assing it.

I’ve received enough positive feedback to keep me going. I think I’m pretty aware of my deficiencies. The seeming randomness of my success in overcoming them is probably what’s driving me now. Some stories succeed more than others (both internal and external validation), and I can’t seem to control it.

What drives me is trying to achieve that perfect expression (but without obsessing to the point where it becomes too painful). Is that the essential artistic impulse? Maybe so.

 

[AStrangeDesire]

I've not asked myself that question before, and now that I have, I'm not really sure what the answer is.

Thinking about it, I've always loved reading (fiction, erotic stories, non-fiction). The only writing I'd done was journaling. And at some point tried writing very short stories. Vignettes really, tiny slices of fantasies.

It just sort of grew from there, over many years, to become an outlet for things that bounce around my head. A way to get them out, so I wouldn't obsess about the idea anymore.

And now it's something I do when I have some time, because I enjoy spending time with the characters in my stories, as much as I enjoy the kinky things they do.

Thanks for starting this thread.

 

[Statius]

Nobody listened to me.

My father abandoned us when I was four years old. My mother was overwhelmed with providing for two young kids on her own in a relatively poor rural area. We moved a lot, so I couldn't make close friends.

I was a smart kid, with a vivid imagination. All through school, I achieved above my grade level. When we had in class reading time, I would finish well before the others, and would fidget and act out. One day, my teacher gave me a blank notebook and said, "If you are bored with these stories, why don't you write your own?"

So I did, and for her purposes, it worked. I filled that notebook with stories. In particular, there were tales of a little girl who became a forest ranger. While none of you read those, some of you are familiar with her adult adventures.

Eventually, I gave it up. That's common, particularly around puberty. Kids stop drawing, or taking dance classes, or writing stories...

My mom and my brother were the only people who ever read those stories.

Years later, I had so much bottled inside me that I thought I'd break down if I didn't let it out, if someone didn't listen to me. I started with posts on Tumblr, but that wasn't enough. I thought that if I expressed my experiences and thoughts in a fictionalized version, I might at last feel heard.

So, I came to Lit. And people listened to me. People even praised me for what I had to say and the way I said it. I can't imagine ever willingly silencing my voice.

Thanks for listening.

That is both heartbreaking and beautiful.

 

[Statius]

Grew up in a house of readers, I came to books late but when I did I never stopped reading. Poetry was and is my first love. I can't write poetry, never could. My older brother was the writer, English major, intellectual, and always wanted to write, and could. But he had crippling insecurity about it, criticism cut him to the bone; self doubt plagued him his whole life. We lost him to brain cancer in '20. I know I can't/ don't write well, but fortunately Lit allows you to grow and learn as you go, so when I found this place it occured to me I could keep a piece of him alive with me by writing some stories here, not what he would write, I can't do that; but in some ways I feel like my writing here keeps him speaking to me, I hear him in my head when I write and even more when I'm editing. At least one of us was published somewhere and I know he'd like that even if it is junk compared to what he could've done.

 

[MelissaBaby]

That is both heartbreaking and beautiful.

Thank you, that is very kind. I hope, however that I have not created a false impression. I've built a great life, with a wonderful marriage and a fulfilling career. Expressing my self through writing has been the best possible therapy.

 

[pink_silk_glove]

Even more so than in my real job, I can get away with half-assing it.

Don't take this wrong. I'm not judging. It's just interesting how we see it differently.

I never take short cuts or half-ass anything in my writing. I always strive to do things well even when I don't care about them, such as all of the shit day jobs that I've had. So when I'm doing something that I actually care about, like writing, damn straight I'm gonna put everything into it, no short cuts.

Also,

I’ve received enough positive feedback to keep me going.

If I needed that to 'keep me going' I would have quit long ago.

 

[SimonDoom]

Here's another driver, related to those I've mentioned, but still different and worth mentioning in its own right: women.

One of the greatest and most pleasurable things about being a man is desiring a woman. The way she looks, the way she talks, the way she moves, the way she challenges you and tussles with you, the way she makes you feel. There's nothing like it.

Much of my erotic fiction is driven by a desire to communicate that, in words.

 

[Zootonius]

No. 5. I get to share my fantasies here that I can't discuss with friends/family

Or to be more exact, to enjoy writing fantasies that readers may enjoy. And, by and large, it seems readers do like reading them, with is quite rewarding.

 

[TruthwithaTwist]

At this point, “I have more summers behind me than I do in front of me” (Man on the Inside - 2026). I find myself looking back, often with fondness, on my relationships and adventures of the past.

Writing on Lit lets me share them, while at the same time reliving them to some extent. For me it’s like looking back at a sexual photo album and sharing it with people who might be interested.