A Writer's Woes

Once Upon A Writer

I used to be a writer. I long for those days. It is odd that when one writes and strives for publication, the reality of that dream coming true only complicates the writing life. Where once I could spend hours living vicariously through my characters triumphs and tragedies, now I have to focus on other matters––business mostly.

I used to have a special chunk of time carved out for writing. Now vying for that space is writing query letters and researching publishers. Soon to follow that is cataloging the received responses, reviewing comments, editing manuscripts, resubmitting them. And once publication is actually achieved, the whole world of self-marketing opens up. When, I ask, do I have time to write now that I’ve set my fledging manuscripts free to fend for themselves in the big, bad world of media-crazed publishing?

I once met an author at a book signing. He spoke eloquently about his life and his writing, about his long, arduous book tour for promoting his most recent book, about living on junk food and out of cheap cars and even cheaper motels. It left me wondering how he found the time and energy to write that next book!

The romanticism of the writing life slips away when the business reality sidles up next to it. Still, there isn’t anything I’d rather do, and receiving that first letter of acceptance is an like winning the lottery. Hell, it IS winning the lottery.

posted by chrmisha @ 12:20 PM