My buddy Mitch* called me a “Writing Machine” the other day.
Can I tell you, I don’t mind that title at all? Because I don’t. It’s flattering. It made me giggle a little. Then I felt like a non-writing machine because I was messing around on Facebook.
But I’m trying. I really am. Trying to make a big go of this writing life. Not to make money. Seriously. There’s very little money for writers. Surprising, right? Most of us work for WAY less than minimum wage (so…invest in books, it helps writers keep going so we all have good stories to read…really…go buy a book).
I want to make this happen because I love it. I love the work. Every bit of it (except probably the marketing stuff…but every job has its downside).
So, I keep going. Keep working. Keep writing and editing and agonizing and reading and loving it all.
And I’m in a good place right now. A place a lot of writers dream of.
Plus, other exciting possibilities that will remain hush hush for now.
But, here’s the thing…
…my words are being read. Characters from my neurotic little head are coming to life. And there’s nothing like that.
Now. If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to do work.
*My buddy Mitch Auvenshine is a rock star. I’m NOT kidding you. You really should check out his band The Breathing and download all of their albums (like, legitimately, no piracy, please…). Check out Mitch and his band HERE.
P.S. I’ve added another book to my Empty Shelf…