Life of a Writer

When I was little, I always pictured the life I wanted as a writer. It would consist of me spending my days creating the stories that live in my head. I would be producing books that were being eagerly gobbled up by publishers. And by the time I was thirty I was going to have a book published.

It’s ten years past that deadline and although I’ve had short stories published and have written a book or two. The goal of being published hasn’t ever seemed farther from my grasp.

These past two weeks haven’t really been as productive as I would have liked. I can’t blame it on lack of time. I can’t even really blame it on the fact that I seem to be living in a petri dish with one sickness after another claiming my body. Although that is true, if I really wanted to, I still could have found a way to get more writing in.

I blame it on me. I am not making sure that I am as focused as I used to be on my writing. I can’t really tell you why that is. I still crave writing every moment that I’m not. When I am recuperating from the latest sickness on the couch, my mind is on the fact I should be sitting in front of my computer and getting the current plot figured out.

Then this morning, while reading through my Facebook timeline, something hit me. In the past five days, there have been so many people that have passed away. Some have been so dear to my heart, others have been dear to my friends and family, and others were dear to the world. And it started me thinking about my writing.

I have always said I was a writer. I wanted to live the life I dreamed about as a little girl. Yet, now that I have the chance and the opportunity, I am pushing it to the side, believing that I will have time to do it later. But one thing the passing of these people have shown me is that you aren’t always promised to have that time later.

I’m not saying that I’m going to spend every waking moment working on my writing. No, because then I wouldn’t be living my life. But I am going to make the biggest effort I can to focus more of my time on writing. If that dream I always had is going to come true, even ten years later, then I need to get myself in order.

Until next time… keep writing!!!!


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