Confessions Of A Writer #4

Continuing where I left off with my Confessions Of A Writer series, this is Confession #4 on the list:

4. I think there is a stigma attached with being a creative type, whether painter or writer.  The stigma that if you have not “made it” within a couple of years, then you should put your pursuit of a creative career on hold to focus on a more “stable” career, a career with a steady paycheck and benefits.  There is a giant string attached to that “stable” career, however, and that is that it does not necessarily provide you with happiness.

You know, happiness?  That often talked about, dreamt about, written about concept that becomes seemingly alien as many get older.  Those many use life as an excuse for letting true happiness fall by the curb, saying that bills need to get paid and a whole other laundry list of reasons.  But there comes a time when you have to ask when do you start paying yourself?  When do you start being happy?  Because those bills will always be there; it does not matter if you have $50 in the bank or $5 million.  But you will not always be here.

I know for one, I want to be remembered for the type of person I was, and that includes never giving up on my writing career.  Come what may, I want to die with a pen in my hand and a notebook beside me.

Confessions Of A Writer

On the left side of this blog you will find an addition to the menu: Confessions Of A Writer.  I decided to start this series because often times, when I sit down to update this blog, I draw a blank.  So here are some of the secrets I have been trying to keep from readers because I hope you do not judge me in a bad way.  I still hope you do not judge me, but I hope this will give you a better sense of who this blogger/author is behind all those dang posts.  Note: The page (you can get there by clicking on the page’s title on the left side at the top of this blog) will be updated as more Confessions come to mind, but these are the confessions of this writer so far.

Confessions of a Writer:

1. When I click on my Amazon Reports page to see if anyone has bought either of my books, I get wicked excited when I see someone has.  That balloon quickly pops when I also see that they then returned said book(s) as soon as they accidentally bought them.

2. I get jealous when I read another person’s blog, and I see that they have thousands of blog followers.  The number of followers I have is still in the teens.  I feel small.

3. I have this panicky knot in the middle of my stomach that a year from now, not more than fifteen people in total will have read my books.  I try to untangle that knot through many self-therapy sessions, but it keeps getting tangled in places.  I am working up to burning the knot all together, erasing the very thought from my brain.  It’s a long, dubious road to get to that point.

Entering The Agent Arena

Okay, I have been slacking in the blogging department.  But I have good reason!  I have been writing.  You know, the thing I want to do with the rest of my life.

Originally, I started writing the sequel to Darkness Calls as well as a memoir piece about my time as a substitute teacher.  I made it to 30,000 words in the Darkness Calls sequel before the writer side of me was all “This can wait.  You need to write the memoir and finish it before the new year.”

Try as I did to focus on both projects, the writer side won, and I put the Darkness Calls sequel on hold to devote more time to the substitute teaching memoir.  Oh, side note, I work as a substitute teacher in addition to writing because while I want to be able to write full-time, what I want and what gives me a paycheck are not necessarily the same thing.

No, I do not want to be a teacher.  No, I did not go to school to be a teacher nor did I ever take an Education course in college.  I ended up as a substitute teacher because after apply to many, many jobs and only getting one interview for a job I ended up not getting, I applied to become a substitute teacher because student loans needed to start to be paid back.  Ah, student loans.  The gift that keeps on giving.

Good news, though: I have finished the memoir.  Currently, I am in the Agent Arena part of writing, where I query agents and agencies to see if one would be interested in representing my work.  Oh, God, I hope someone will be interested in my work.  I hope my query and synopsis are enough to catch someone’s eye (in a good way).  I tried to outline what the book is about, but I do not always do summary well.  I hope they will get my book, that it is not just a series of me venting about how, as a job, substitute teaching kind of sucks, but that the book is about teaching, students, and that the book would be great read for a teacher or anyone wanting to enter the Education field (and those who have entered the field and have come back with a few scars of their own) as well as anyone who has had to deal with their own quarter life crisis.

I hope, but then there is Doubt that likes to remind me that “You seem to hope a lot.  Will anything you hope for happen?”