I am not a successful person. There are certainly things I have accomplished (I’ve written a bunch of books!), but by and large, I think I have been remarkably unsuccessful at life. At this point in my existence on this speck of dust suspended on a sunbeam, I thought I would be more settled, more content, more… accomplished.
I don’t need a fortune, and I have certainly never needed fame. I don’t need a lot of people to recognize who I am… I’d like to aspire to Scalzi-levels of recognition (people who know the specific genre that I write in might know who I am, but even then many do not), but I don’t need even a significant fraction of that to be happy. I’m not aiming for the stars nor the moon. Just a bit higher than I am today.
Sadly, it hasn’t happened yet, and I am starting to worry if it ever will. Stuff is hard and is only going to get harder as time goes on. Ah well. Nothing I can do about that except keep trying. Maybe someday things will get easier?
Hope everyone out there is staying safe and healthy!