I’ve wanted to be a writer ever since I realised that being a popstar was an unlikely career path. I’ve always lived in my head, spending large amounts of time in worlds of my own making. Should be a natural progression, right? Yes and no.
To start, I have yet to truly learn the craft. I know it’s going to take time, and I’m going to be dissatisfied with what I get out of my efforts even when I’ve mastered the art of writing (aim high).
The good part of this is that I *am* actively working on it, even if that means slow progress for now since I’m employed full-time. I work towards the day when I can earn a living from writing – that’s the endgame. I don’t have a preconceived idea of what that’s going to look like, I only know that the point at which I can give my notice and cease to work for someone else will be the point at which I achieve success.
In the meantime, I have to pretend that I want a career in an office. I suppose it’s good practise for when I write characters engaging in deception.
Drat, I now need to go off and write a bunch of stuff about one my characters. Ciao!