Not economics, but still a good story.

I had an epiphany last night. I watched a Michael Caine movie, Flawless. The story is about a destitute old janitor who outsmarts the evil, wealthy London diamond merchants, who were responsible for his wife's death. He extracted $100 million from them in a most ingenious scheme. The writer piqued my interest because I was as puzzled as anyone in the story as to how Caine had done it. I watched to discover the answer while the characters teased me with suspense.

The scheme, while plausible, was likely impossible, but so what, I was rooting for the characters. Caine gave all the money to his reluctant young female accomplice, who spent the rest of her life giving the money away to worthy causes. At the end of the movie, I smiled to myself and let out a modest scream, "Now that was a great story." The epiphany came then.

I realized something about myself and my own dreams.

I write. Ergo, I am a writer.

I struggle to transport a reader on a journey to a distant place with words. A place that exists once a upon a time in a far away land where the reader's current problems remain far behind. A safe haven if only for a few hours.  A place created by  fascinating characters who follow their own dreams to a place we wish we could go. A place where good is victorious. A place where the the underdog struggles against formidable adversaries and eventually conquers the overdog. A place where principle trumps money. A place where moral principles flourish and guide our characters along a winding road densely populated with life's temptations.

I was transported to such a place last night. And it occurred to me at the end of my short journey that I write to create just such a journey for my readers. I have not done that yet to the extent I wish. I have work to do.

It also occurred to me that all writers must eventually reach the same conclusion I did. I now know that I write to take a reader on a similar journey to a far away place in a far away land. A place where the reader smiles to themselves, and can not resist exclaiming out loud, "That was a great story, " and wants to visit again."

That's a writer's dream.

I am a writer.