Because It Matters To Me
March 23, 2011
I want to thank y'all for being my unpaid psychiatrists. Yes, I've been going through a somewhat cyclical angst about writing fiction. I'm sure most of you have the reaction of, "Yes, yes, yes, uh-huh, now, how about your mother?"
Partly this has to do with all the changes in the publishing industry; some of it has to do with my being sick the last 2 weeks; some of it has to do with work; some of it has to do with, well, me.
But I woke up this morning -- okay, well, I slept on the couch because the flu came back at me hard again (9 days and counting) and I wanted Leanne to get some sleep, then took Sean to school, then ate breakfast, then went back to bed and slept until 10:30 in the morning, so that's when I eventually woke up -- and thought, "You do it because it's important to you."
Not unlike the reason I play guitar, work out at the gym, study karate, bike, gym. Because I enjoy it and because I get something out of it, even if it's not always clear what that is.
All told, I would prefer that a larger chunk of my annual income came from writing books -- both fiction and nonfiction --and quitting writing fiction won't make that happen, will it?
Ultimately, I think this is true for everyone, though, isn't it? Why do you write? Sometimes it's money. Sometimes it's a compulsion. Sometimes it's how you process the world. Sometimes it's...
A million and one different reasons, but it may all come down to: because it's important to you.
Which is where I am today. Writing books are important to me.