I want to be a full-time writer.
I mean, yeah, it absolutely scares the shit out of me. But right now, I barely have the time to shave once a week (as you can see), let alone write all the things I want to write.
And yet, when I think about it, I realize that there are so many things that could go wrong:
1) I Could Run Out of Ideas: It’s true. There are a limited number of ideas in my writer brain. Last time I checked, it was hovering around 13,276. If I had enough time, I could write all those stories. I really could. And then I’d be forced to buy new ideas from Magical Jack’s Idea Shack in Ypsilanti, Michigan, with money I don’t have. *shudders*
2) I Might Never Run Out of Ideas: And then again, with so much time on my hands, my idea well might refill itself and I might have too many stories to write. This, of course, would lead to the inevitable mental breakdown. And then I’d sit at Shady Green Acres, staring vacantly off into the distance and drooling out the side of my mouth, thinking about how wonderful it was when I had a steadily paying job.
3. I Am Not Good Enough: My writer brain assures me that I am the most fantastic writer who ever lived. Then in the same breath, it tells me that I suck and couldn’t possibly make a living out of this. I’m pretty sure my actual writing ability falls somewhere in the middle of the two. But still, how do I know I am good enough to make a go of it?
4. About That Steadily Paying Job: Mark and I took a leap years ago and started our own company. It worked out really well for us, and we made a great living at it, but we were younger then. Most writers don’t make enough money to pay their bills without a second income. And I’m not so young anymore. OK, so I haven’t entered crypt-keeper territory yet, but I’m closer to retirement than to high school. So what happens it doesn’t work?
So I’m on the fence about trying to go full-time. I love writing, except when I absolutely hate its guts. But it is something I need to do.
Is it worth it to try to make the leap to full-time?