I feel like the answer for all three of my published novels and definitely my earlier failed novel would be "depression."

I wanted to write about a humorous road trip, but Cthulhu kept insisting on coming along…

“Because I’m crazy, next question” (how I imagine I’d handle it if I were in a certain type of mood lol)

“Well someone had to, and *clearly* it wasn’t going to be you, so…”

Okay, see, my muse is a complete jackass, see, and that little fucker kept smacking me in the head saying "Hey! Shithead! Write this fuckin' book!" and I hoped if I wrote it maybe it might shut the little fucker up for a while, as if that shit ever works. So anyway, here we are. Here's the book.

idk i feel like “i was vomiting up a dead fetus of trauma and i had to put it somewhere” would be humiliating to some but not to me

"My publisher demanded it..." "My fans demanded it..." "I had a huge advance..." "I told people I was a writer then had to substantiate it!" "It was a story that needed telling..." "They chained me to the desk & kept whipping me if I didn't write!" etc... am I close?!

Right next to “why did you do x?” Like, I can understand justifying some plot decisions, but sometimes the answer is simply “because I wanted to.”

‘Is it a best seller?’ is right up there.

The answer to that is: The words were inside me and needed to get out.

Ugh. Right up there with “What’s your book about?“ oh see there’s this guy and this other guy and they do a thing…

"Why didn't you just watch Netflix and play video games instead of your art?" "I don't know, I'm just sort of broken?"

“I wanted to meet girls.”