Today I edited just over four chapters worth of Feathers & Fae. I was up and at my computer this morning by 7am. It's nearly 8pm now. Seems like a lot, doesn't it? That was my Saturday because Monday through Friday I work at a normal job to pay my mortgage and bills.
I'm sure you probably did something a lot more interesting. I drank coffee. I ate easy, but unhealthy food. My head and back ache. And I am worried that all this work will be for nothing. That no one will pick up the book and it will never be read.
It's silly right?
Except, it's not. This is what it means to be a writer. Not everyone is going to be Stephen King or JK Rowling. Most writers aren't going to have that kind of success. Putting in countless hours on a novel that may never see the light of day is a very real possibility.
So why do I even want to do this?
Because I am a writer. I can live with the weekends lost to unpaid work. I can live with crappy diet. I can live with the intense fear and insecurity because I would rather be doing nothing else. I am a writer.