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For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a professional writer. Unfortunately, I'm pretty much a year from 40 years old and I just write for the fun of it. I was afraid of becoming one of those starving artists that we always talked about in school, which is why I got a real job.
I wrote poems and short stories throughout my childhood but didn't think about writing a novel until I was maybe 26 or 27. Now, with the help of National Novel Writing Month, I have maybe 6 works in progress. (Pretty impressive huh? No, don't lie to me.) I did self-publish a book of poems that I had been writing since I was 12. It came out in May 2008. I was pretty proud of it even though 1 out of every 4 people thought it sucked.
I used to be pretty sensitive and didn't take criticm very well. The older I've gotten I've figured out that you can't please everyone so I just have to make sure I put out the best book I can and keep it moving.
My muse is always calling me asking me what I've written lately. Yeah, I know that sounds weird, like he's a real guy or something. I promise I'm not crazy, just a little touched in the head. You know, just enough to cope with the foolishness of everyday life.
I'm a creative person in several different areas. I crochet, cross stitch, scrapbook, make jewelry... The list is a little longer but I figure you get the idea. Anyway, I am always immersed in one or more creative endeavors at a time, which eats up time that I could be writing. That's when my muse starts bugging me, "So, how long will this take? When are you going to finish one of these novels that you have in that drawer?"
Ugggghhhh!!
That guy gets on my nerves, so here I am writing, taking glances at this afghan I need to finish and trying to finish this post before I pull out my pens and stickers to decorate my Erin Condren planner (I'll talk about that in a later post.)
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Are you doing the type of work you thought you would when you grew up? If not, how do you deal with it?
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