Matt suggests — not entirely tongue in cheek — that it’s a screaming need to be loved by everyone, all the time, and be the center of the universe, and I’m not certain that he’s wrong.
I write to tell stories, to pay the bills, to change the world, to explore all the facets of life that I haven’t quite made sense of yet. But at bottom, if I’m brutally honest with myself, I’m seeking approval. I am a mass of raging egotism and screaming insecurity, and those two characteristics, bundled tightly and wrapped in with a weird childhood and a vivid imagination, have produced a writer.
Therapy would probably cure the problem.