I’m one of THOSE people. (The post wherein I ramble…there MAY be a point in here…)
I try to plan ahead, I swear. Most days though, I feel like I’m flying by the seat of my pants. It will more than likely not surprise anyone who knows me that I am attempting to switch up what I want to be when I grow up…while in my forties. When I was a kid, on any given day my answer would change when asked that question. It depended entirely on my mood. One day I might say I wanted to be a teacher, or cosmetologist, or ballet dancer. The list goes on and on. (By the way, I would never be able to be a ballet dancer—but you dream big when you are five.) I have been like that my whole life really. I had absolutely NO idea what I wanted to do with the rest of my life, not even by the time I turned thirty, or, ugh, forty.
Two things have remained a constant all throughout my life. I read. I read A LOT. I wrote. I wrote when I was inspired, mad, or sad. Writing was always an outlet, and a subject I did well at in college. I even scored an A+ in one of my college comp courses. Now that I am a month away from the mid-point of my forties, (I shudder to say the actual number—but then again forty is the new thirty, right?) I feel like I have finally found the one thing that I could potentially do for a living that I actually enjoy and am excited about.
After years of office work (I have had many of the grunt-work office positions) I am absolutely burned out on it. The quarantine that the whole country is going through right now was an actual blessing to me, as I was able to work from home, and avoid most of the office politics that I abhor. I have been able to spend time writing regularly as well. The almost two hours daily that are typically swallowed up by my commute are the perfect amount of ‘free time’ to do writerly things. Whether it is fleshing out my WIP, working on this site, lining up a cover artist and editor, or reading books on the craft of writing, I have almost two whole hours that are like a gift to me.
I have spent many days at work dreaming away during my lunchtime about how awesome it would be to be able to write full time. NOW I have had a small taste of it, and I want more. Which is the kick in the ass that I needed to motivate me to stop dreaming and start doing.