The other day I was on Marco Polo with a friend talking about an experience that I’d had that evening. I was so buoyed by the connections I’d made, particularly because they were in line with helping me move toward a goal I’d recently put into the universe and to see the turnaround on its way coming to fruition so quickly was awe-inspiring to watch. I think everyone who reads this knows by now that I recently embarked on a second career, penning novels–particularly #negronosedromance.
In that Marco Polo dispatch, I told my friend…this thing happening finally made me feel like this writing thing was going to stick and that I’d finally felt like this is what I should be doing. My friend’s response to my news ended with a question that I’ve been pondering ever since. She said (I’m paraphrasing), “You keep saying this…when a thing happens and I wonder…what will it take for you to finally accept that this is your destiny?”
I skirted answering her in the moment because I didn’t have an answer at the time. You see…I was adamant…AM ADAMANT that I want my writing to be a supplemental career and not my main thing. For as much as I love writing, y’all wanna know the real? I’m a little (read: fucking majorly) scared. And it took talking to another friend about the situation to really bring me to grips with even being brave enough to admit that to the three people who’ll read this, lol. These two ideas are tied together, actually the more I think about it.
For me…validation of my success as a writer is intrinsically linked with financial wealth. I’m nowhere near being able to quit working my nine to five to be able to do this full time. And a part of me feels like the little bit of notoriety I do have amongst readers in my genre can easily fade to black, so is the risk of working toward the goal of making this what is responsible for feeding, housing, & clothing me worth it?
I go back and forth with my answer to the above question. Without a doubt the feeling I get when I hear that people have consumed my work and it touched them in some way should be bottled and sold. It’s almost criminal how high I get from the simplest interactions and it’s a feeling I never want to fade. But I also tend to self-sabotage a LOT…so I worry that if I were to put my everything into my writing career and it failed, that I’d never recover.
Plus…when they’re not stressing the hell out of me, I really like my day job. I love the field and the opportunities it provides to be able to effect change. Hell, I’m in the process of obtaining a Very Expensive Almost Terminal Degree™ in the field so that I can transition from what I’m doing currently into a more people facing position to effect greater change on a larger scale.
I don’t know why I’m writing this or even if it’ll stay published on this site. But these thoughts have been swirling around in my head for months now, almost to the point of consumption and I needed to get em out. If you have thoughts, feelings, opinions, can commiserate in some way…PLEASE REACH OUT. LOL! Let me know I ain’t (too) crazy…