Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow

I don’t make New Year’s resolutions. The timing is arbitrary, and a big old laundry list of goals increases the likelihood that none will be achieved. I do set goals for myself, though. The most recent one involves shifting the way I think about my writing.

In the past, I’ve let myself get caught up wordcount and timetable goals, with the endgame of publication, and one day, the ability to write fiction full-time. If you’ve ever spent any time on any agent or writer or editor’s blog, you know that the last bit is wildly optimistic to the extent that it approaches delusion. I’ve been going about it the wrong way.

What I need to accept is that the process of writing is its own reward, and that continuing to unlock and solve the issues in my stories and my novel project is an exciting end of itself. I’ve heard it said that if you do what you love, the money will follow. Sometimes writing can be such a slog that I forget that I do love it, that it’s been a creative driver in my life since I was a child, and that I should in fact be grateful to have a real vocation. Like anything worth doing well, it just takes time.

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