So close... and so burned out... but still, very close
It's almost the end of the year... and I have three chapter left to edit on my book from the feedback I got from the professional editor. I am so tired.
That's my update, happy holidays.
Just kidding. Kinda.
I have been thinking and stressing over the hopes and possibilities that are tied to me for writing. I won't lie and say I DON'T have delusions of grandeur or hopes of major success... but honestly, if I can make enough money as a writer to pay the bills (or even supplement my other job as a substitute teacher), I think I would be happy.
I know that material success isn't the sole indicator of a artist's creative vision and the value of their contributions. If that were true, every blockbuster would be a masterpiece. But there are so many factors that I think are better indicators for whether your work resonates with people: reader engagement, turnover from ads and word-of-mouth, whether people come back for more. It's just difficult not to get hung up on whether those things will happen for me, and it's also intimidating when I consider how much work I have to put in outside of writing as an independent artist.
But, in the end, whether I succeed or don't, I think I will die happy knowing I tried my best to live life on my own terms, and truly did things for their own sake. The things I mentioned above may happen as a consequence of my writing (or may not, if no one likes it). But the process of writing itself, of creating a story I am proud of, I have done for its own sake.
And I think that's a good maxim to live by.
Happy holidays, and may your new year bring you blessings of hope and possibility.