I’m blessed that writing (sort of)(barely) pays the bills.
But one result of taking something you love and turning it into work is that it becomes an obligation rather than an escape. You HAVE to do that if you want to make a living from it, of course — I would have faltered years ago if I didn’t decide that I had to prioritize writing in the same way you do any other job — but you lose a little of what drew you to it in the first place.
For me, it was the joy of playing with words; of creating people and situations out of whole cloth; and of looking at a page and saying, “Holy shit, I made that!”
These days, I write more than ever before. Every day. Lots.
But rarely do I write creatively just for the hell of it.
This year, that’s going to change. I’m going to write and finish a short story a month all year. Some I’ll post here. The good ones I won’t, because I’ll be trying to get them placed in a magazine, but other stuff I will.
‘Cause dammit, I need a creative release.
And yes, I fully recognize that by posting this I have essentially made even this into an obligation, and more writing obligations are the last thing I need right now.
That’s okay. This is the sort of obligation worth having. Besides, I feel like I can indulge in this because ultimately it still plays into my goal of writing being What I Do. I mean, hey, who knows, some of these stories may even help advance my overall writing goals and lead to good shit.
So really, it’s just part of the plan.
Now it’s time to start on the first one…