Shoot for the moon. It’s a big damn target.

I must admit to feeling rather foolish these days. I have finally stepped into the realm where writers are everywhere. Under rocks, behind trees, in coffee shops, walking down the street. They congregate in groups, and they ALSO congregate online. For the busy writer who already has too much to do, online is a *much* spiffier option. Let’s face it, writers are at least a little bit introverted. Coming forth from the cave doesn’t always happen.

I met some local writers through the contest with the Herald. One of those writers has introduced me to three different writers groups. I haven’t stepped into the pool, but I’ve been approved for all three, so we’ll see which one ends up getting more of my time/attention.

I’m still having difficulty balancing my desire for financial success through my writing with having a life. I’m *so* far behind the eight ball. And classes, while useful, aren’t always in session. Not that my bank account always allows for that anyway. The class that my parents treated me to draws near, and that’s just more hours I have to carve out of my day.

Allow me to sum up where my time goes. Family (husband & son), Work, Friends, and Writing. Now, it sounds like it would be the easiest thing in the world to swap Friends for Writing, and on paper, it works. However, these are my friends. I like these people. They are important to me, and I have a *ton* of them. If I’m not seeing one person, I’m seeing another.. and others are still getting neglected.

You might also notice that I don’t have any ‘me’ time. Writing is my ‘me’ time. Or, it’s what I choose to do with my time. There’s reading and TV and movies and online gaming and working out and shopping and a whole mess of other things I could be doing with my time, but my time is limited. So, I write.

Oh, and I do social media. Which, for the record, is how you sell anything these days. You can choose not to do social media, but that’s pretty much deciding to cut off an appendage, if your appendage was made of a hojillion wallets looking for something to buy. So, I do social media.

I am watching this progression with awe. I haven’t even been published a year, and the ways in which I’ve grown and changed are amazing. I always said that being published was my dream, but what I didn’t realize is what comes after being published. The rules are changing. You can read it in any blog. Self-published and tiny publishing houses are taking a large bite out of the Big House Publishing pie. Self-published authors are the new slush pile, and the Big Houses are leaning back and watching who to pluck from obscurity – although the joke is on them, because if you do well enough as a self-published writer, you aren’t obscure. (I know I’m not self-published, but I identify more with them because of how small my publishing company is.)

It’s crazy, what I want for myself is crazy. I want to be paid for this – not a tiny check, but something that will cover a year of my expenses, so I can sit down for a year and stop needing to work a ‘sensible’ job. It’s time to shoot for the moon. It’s out there, but it’s still a big damn target.

 

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