When Bills Get In Your Way

I'm having a struggle right now between paying bills and living my purpose. What's a writer to do? I know, I know, "Write in your spare time, get up early and write, write on the weekends!" That's what people like to say and that's what some people like to do. The trouble is, it doesn't work that way for everybody.

For me, my creativity and motivation are completely sapped out when my work life becomes overwhelming, under-stimulating, or invasive. I'm sort of in that spot right now. Plus, you know, I need "free time" that doesn't involve sitting in front of a computer. That means I want to read, to spend time with loved ones, or to go outside when I'm not working or writing stuff for other people. My first thought after a long day isn't to go back to my computer to pound out more words on the keyboard.

I keep telling myself that "someday" I'll be able to work less at my day job, and then I can focus more on my personal writing. Or at least focus more on the things that most interest me - but that seem to pay shit. But then the reality is that life keeps getting more expensive by the year. I'd like a home of my own someday, and I want to travel, and there are medical bills to pay.

And every year I have to work a little bit harder to try to keep up with the rising costs. Which means I can't truly follow my passions unless I want to physically live in a ramshackle closet. I'll figure it out, though. I know I will.

I was reading an article in a magazine last night about why people pursue goals for years or for decades. The author said that it gives them something to come back to. A constant. A sense of purpose that sort of runs beneath the surface of their daily lives like a centuries-old groundwater supply. And I suppose that's what my current book project has turned into. My sense of purpose that I keep coming back to.

Although I can't help but wish that I could have my cake and eat it, too. You know, be able to do the type of writing I want to do but still be able to live a comfortable life. I suppose that's never been the reality for most artists throughout the course of time, but I wonder if it's getting even harder today? Or maybe I'm just looking for an explanation that doesn't exist.

Tomorrow I will write. And if not then, well, I'll write the next day. And if I don't have the time when the next day comes, I'll write the next week.

I just hope I don't run out of days.

Writing? Pay Attention to What Excites You

So I was on a work trip last week (somehow, some way, somebody wants to pay me to do photography for them) and I pulled out my Mac during my last night in the hotel. And I decided to work on this story idea I'd come up with while I was recovering from surgery. It was one of those middle-of-the-night, random ideas that bubbled to the surface while my conscious brain was too sick to get in the way.

And as I started writing, I realized that this character may not be one that an adult would care much about. In fact, upon further thought, this character isn't someone created for adults. Indeed, I think I'm writing a book for a middle school audience.

And when I figured this out I sort of got really excited about it. Well, not sort of...I did. Because all of a sudden I had a flash of ideas in my brain, I could see the possibilities for the character and the storyline(s), and I wasn't struggling with finding a direction in the same way that I had with my last fiction book attempt.

Over the next few days I started doing research into writing children's books. I don't think it's a coincidence that I'd ordered a book on this very subject a few weeks prior. Sometimes the universe is funny like that. It knows where you're going before you do.

Anyway, I looked up different organizations related to children's books and publishing, and I had this moment where I stumbled upon a list of kids' books on one of the websites. And in that moment my heart leaped and a smile formed itself on my face. I was excited.

Back at the turn of 2010 I was a school teacher for a year, and what I loved best about teaching was when I got to have conversations with my kids about life lessons. (Yes, I also really loved teaching them how to write, but I really REALLY loved teaching them how to be human beings.) I didn't have kids at the time, so it was nice to have an outlet to help these children move into adolescence.

I'm 35 years old now, my uterus has been stitched together in multiple places during a recent surgery, and it looks like kids are not in the cards for me. And I've been feeling some sort of way about that. About not being able to help my child, or any child, have a better life than I was subjected to.

But what if...what if!...I could help the other children in this world through my writing?

I remember this lovely book called Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret. I read it several times when I was a young girl, and I remember that it had a positive effect on my life. It answered questions that I had, it taught me to navigate social relationships, and it helped me to not feel so alone. Could I do that for someone else?

Right now I've decided to really pay attention to my feelings, because the idea of being a children's book author excites me in a new and vibrant way. It feels like writing books for young adults is something I can actually do. Like, in the same way I feel like I can write kick ass marketing copy or IT documentation. So I'm going to follow it and see where it goes.