I have been asked more than a few times why I bother being a writer. It certainly isn’t the pay, and I suspect it will never be the pay (I am a good writer, but in order to make appreciable amounts of money you have to be a exceedingly prolific writer, or an exceptionally talented one, and I’m neither). It’s not that I feel I “should” be a writer, or because I have a message that needs to be shared with the world and this is the only way I can think to spread that message.
Honestly, it sometimes feels like I’m a writer because I have no choice. That no matter what else I am doing in my life, that part of me is always writing (or, at the very least, wanting to write). I can’t help it. The ability to do it full-time would just mean that it would stop spreading into all the cracks, into every waking moment, into all the gaps and pauses that should be filled with rest or sleep or leisure and are instead filled with scribbles, hastily scrawled notes, and any other way I can get words on a page.
Don’t get me wrong, I love writing. I love writing. But it is definitely something that doesn’t make my life any easier. Quite the opposite. My life is harder and busier and more stressful by many orders of magnitude because of my writing.
Oh well. I love it anyway.
Hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!