Watch Us Fall

In a perfect world I'd be a bestselling author making a living by my writing.  This is not a perfect world, however, but it doesn't stop me from trying.  In fact, the place I'm in pushes me toward that goal.

It is far from easy, though.

The current manuscript I'm working on is leaving me emotionally drained in a way no other manuscript has done (and hopefully no other one will ever do).  This one isn't like the cannibal manuscript, which I had fun writing.  This one isn't fun.  It's torture. 

But I have to write it.

Writing for me isn't a choice.  It's something I need to do, like breathing, eating or spying on young lovers in their cars.  If I don't write for an extended period of time, or only write nonfiction, I get weird.  Well, weirder.  I get weirder.  I know someday it will pay off.  I've already accomplished a lot.  My work has appeared in books, magazines, web sites on DVDs and in bands' promotional materials.  I'm published in many different places and in many different countries.  If I stop to think about it, it's actually kind of cool.

I've been lucky enough to meet some great people through my writing, too.  But every once in a while I wonder if it is worth it.  I'm up at five most mornings, early enough to get writing done before work.  Sometimes I'm up until two in the morning doing it, too.  It drains me and consumes me.  It is a blessing and a curse.

And I'm not sure I'd have it any other way.

Someday ...