Writers ask questions. They are among the first people who will ask questions about someone or something that piques their curiosity. Why did your parents give you your name? At what age did you l arrive in America? Why have Black men held the 100-meter dash world record over the past 65 years? What are the first and last places on earth to see the sun rise? Are typewriters obsolete worldwide? How did a grand piano get into a tiny basement jazz club? What do the colors of the Timor-Leste flag signify? How often to do you visit your family in Bangladesh? Can people who speak Mandarin and Wu understand each other? Why are five years necessary to graduate from architecture school? Why do most people consider this person more attractive than that person?
Of course, questions can get too personal. We should not be surprised if someone we question out of pure curiosity answers, "It's none of your business." Worse, we might become victims of the inept ethics police. But the problem is everything is a writer's business. Asking questions may not necessarily get us the answers we seek, but the imaginative journey is all about asking questions. Carson McCullers might have asked, what if people saw a man's deafness as a mighty advantage, which led her to writing The Heart Is a Lonely Hunter. Ernest Hemingway might have asked, can an old, poor, defeated man endure even more than most of us while remaining true to his principles, before writing The Old Man and the Sea. Alice Munro might have asked how can a woman reconcile her love of someone she believes to be a murderer, sparking her to write "The Love of a Good Woman."
Almost any good story probably comes from a writer asking questions, and the stories they write engage their readers, not necessarily by answering those questions but by making their readers ask questions as well.
