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Lately, its been hard to push myself to keep working on writing projects. My second novel is stuck at about 50,000 words, I’ve got two screenplays and two speculative scripts that I am successfully ignoring, and a podcast that is in indefinite hiatus until schedules clean up. I remind myself- regularly- that if you don’t try, you can’t succeed, but even that line is sounding hollow and trite as I realize that even if I was to complete all of these projects, there is no guarantee that any of them would gain traction with an audience to any real degree.
Since finishing my first novel and publishing it on KDP, I have received lots of awesome praise and encouragement which has kept me going (at least on the Triworlds projects), but that doesn’t translate into manageable currency unfortunately, so I’ve had to get day jobs that significantly cut into my writing time, and leave me drained and uninspired during my precious free time. I find it to be more worth my time to squeeze out the extra hour of sleep when I can get it, instead of the extra thousand words, and it isn’t a great feeling to know that I am so far behind on all of my plans.
To that end, I’ve cut down on all my expenditures as much as possible, and rely on caffeine and the like in order to press myself to be productive. I write on buses, trains, on napkins while at work. I write in my dreams. Because I’ve got to double down on this thing, or else I’ll get stuck, caught in the same trap that many fall into, just doing what you can to pay the bills, biding time until something better comes along, something that will fix what makes them unhappy and doesn’t require real work. Except that doesn’t fit into my worldview; I know that no one is going to save me, that no one is going to tap me on the shoulder and say “Ah, we’ve been looking for someone with your talent, come follow me to where the winners are…”
I write because writing is my golden rope, my ladder to a better life. There aren’t a lot of options open for me at this stage, and in the end, writing is the only thing I’ve really ever wanted to do. So I guess the answer is to keep on trucking; no matter how hard it is, no matter how little money I have, no matter how much free time I dedicate to it, it is the only was that I can see out of working for other people for the rest of my life. My question is, what do other people do? Are they suffering as much as I am, going to crappy corporate jobs day in and day out, and still making no money? Or are they happy in what they do, and give no second thoughts to their fate? Or… Am I just whining about being broke, and about how I put myself there by choosing a long-shot passion career over a more lucrative but ultimately uninteresting life?
Decisions, decisions…

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2 Comments

  1. I had the same dilemma. I was going to be a writer. Maybe not world famous, but at least locally known.
    But I let life interrupt those plans, and told myself that I would pick it up later, when I wasn’t so busy……that never happened.
    The spark never took again – it laid there and smouldered and died. My own doing, I know. I didn’t have the fortitude to stick with it.
    Keep forging ahead. I’m sure it will pay off in the end – you are very talented.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thank you, kind words of encouragement mean a lot at the moment. I guess the lesson I need to learn right now is that life never stops being busy, and that I really just need to weigh pursuing my passion against anything else I could be doing with my free time…

      Like


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