If you still want more answers to your question, here's my penn'orth.
I began writing because I was inspired by a television drama (Sandy Welsh's 2005 adaptation of Mrs Gaskell's 'North and South'
. The last episode ended, and I desperately didn't want it to, so I imagined the 'what happened next', and in the end it became so involved that I had to write it down. Two months later it was the length of a novel (85,000 words)!
Then I found I had the bug - I had to carry on writing, and am still doing so, two years later with one published novel, another accepted for publication this autumn and a third one a quarter written.
It is weird where it has come from. I am in my mid-forties and had never written a word of fiction before (though I do legal writing for my job.) But I read - an average of two books a week for the previous 30 years. And when I was reading a good book, I have come to realise, it lived with me (you know the way books do), and I used to be imagining (though without ever focussing on the fact I was doing it) little scenarios between the characters, what might happen, even snippets of dialogue. It was always going on in my head, but with other people's characters and not written down. Now it's the same except the stories are my own. When I am in the bath, driving to work, cooking the kids' tea, the story is telling itself, the characters are chatting... (Does this make me sound like a crazed loon?)
The only downside - and for me it is a major one! - is that I have lost my ability to read. In the two years since I began to write fiction I think I have managed to read only two complete books (one of which was EmmaD's The Mathematics of Love, in fact!). It's partly time - I have a full time job and two young daughters, and what were my stolen moments of reading time are now my writing time. But also - unless a book is outstandingly gripping, I find it just doesn't displace my own current story in my head, however hard I try. (As if you are half way through a book you are finding utterly absorbing and then you try to start a different one... a thing I have never been able to do.) My to-be-read pile, which has always been by the bed, has now reached levels where it is a health & safety hazard - and I also feel bereft about losing my ability to read, when it was so much part of my life. I'm hoping it will come back when this writing bug wears off a bit...
Rosy.