I wanted to write this story down before I forgot it because, it seems to me, that writers have similar stories about why they write. I remember doing newsletters to entertain my friends. I wrote countless notes and letters to family and friends. I had pen-pals from France, India, Hong Kong, and South Africa. I enjoyed doing presentations in school, especially after I had my whole sixth grade class in stitches after telling a joke and then pretending to be afraid. My teacher had tears streaming down her face, she laughed so hard. It was a wonderful feeling to bring the class together in laughter. There were so many differences among us, race (schools had just been desegregated the year before) and physical maturity (some of us were still children while others were becoming adolescents).
The thought of giving pleasure to people through my writing was what drove me to create all the way through junior high school. I think the same is true now, although my reasons for writing are varied and complex. But, yes, love is definitely a big factor.
I feel that people are reluctant to reveal that their art comes out of love. The "L" word isn't very scholarly. And it's hard to write an argumentative essay about love. The "L" word is kind of a dirty word in academia because it doesn't fit into any theory of art whatsoever. Yet e.e. cummings, quoting Rilke in his famous "Non Lectures," said art comes from love.