mornings

Not necessarily in this order


*bleerily shut off alarm at 5:45
*lay there trying to remember what day it is
*go potty; throw on clothes
*find shoes (or not - couldn't find shoes yesterday and spent the day in my socks)
*walk dog
*go to shop and turn on the machines
*run up and get muffins (about 4/7 days)
*back at shop, put muffins in case
*brew drip
*turn on lights/sign
*make sure I've got enough cups, lids, creamer, and stuff
*spend 15 min killing flys
*take cash box out of seekrit hiding place
*take some Excederin (about 4/7 days, but not necessarily the same day as muffin day)
*sign onto teh internets

not a way to make a living

I remember a high-school friend making a joke that Stephen King would go down into his basement with a ream of paper and not come up until it was done.

I don't see how anyone can think, gee, I'll make a living as a writer! At $.02/word (for short pieces) or $5000 (generous for an unknown/ average if you've got one or two under your belt - that sold well) for a 90,000 word novel, a person would have to write five novels or over a million words of shorts to make just $25,000/year. And that's not just words written, but polished and sold.

Of course, if one was writing and selling that much, it'd mean that one was brilliant, and the words would most likely go up in value. I really doubt King gets a measly $5K per opus (not that I'm saying King is brilliant, but there's stuff he's written that I really like, and, man, does he sell.)

I was explaining this to my son Sam last night, when he asked if we'd be rich if I sold my novel. He shook his head, "But ... how could you not be rich? You'll be in libraries!"

And I thought, yes, you're right.

Not the riches he was thinking of, but, still. I remember explaining this same thing to Jake, and he quirked his lips at me, "You are the only person I know who would be crazy enough to work so hard for nothing."

Making a lot of money writing is like making a lot of money as an athlete, or as a performer. Some people do, but it's a very small percentage of the ones who are out there striving. If there's one thing that I've learned from Wiscon, it's that writers are like dust on the street; there as so many, many good writers out there.

I'm writing this as a reminder to myself -- I write for the love of it; because I can't not write; because when I don't write, a part of me goes unfed; because when I call myself 'writer,' my heart sings. And as with any lover, there are disappointments, compromise, and working out the nuts and bolts.