Why anyone does anything is generally a complicated jumble of reasons. When people claim to do something from a singular motivation, they are either purely good, completely evil, or confused. I vote they're mostly confused.
The reason I write is … Okay, let's try that again.
One of the myriad reasons I write is because it delights my heart when people enjoy reading the story. That delight is compounded in magnitude when the person is a child. I guess I've always had a soft spot for children.
The photo that accompanies this post shows that in action. This is the daughter of Shawna, the artist doing the illustrations for the Adventures of Boathouse Mouse books. Shawna messaged: “(My daughter) loves the changes in the book, by the way! She highly approves book 1 so far. I did get lectured as I'm not done with all the sketches yet.”
Shawna's children got an uncustomary reading of an early draft of the book, and the kids loved it. I have since sent a final (or nearly so) edit and evidently it is approved by my focus group.
Why do I write? How can I not write with that kind of audience?