I’ll tell you something right off the bat: I love writing. I love it so much that I wish it was the only thing I had to do every day. There is not a single thing in this world I enjoy more. I have already released my first book, Wenworld, and yet I am still filled with such dissatisfaction. I don’t feel very proud, nor do I feel a strong sense of fulfillment. The reason being is that I am still not writing as much as I’d like.
I once told myself I would publish two books every single year starting in 2020. I was so damn sure of that. I was fired up to do it. And yet I have recently done the math, meaning the number of words I can possibly write a day plus the editing involved, and I have come to the conclusion that such a goal is just not attainable. That really upsets me.
I know I can do one book a year for sure, but that is still not what I had planned. It is very difficult to build yourself when first starting out; very disheartening trying to build your own fanbase. This is only made worse when you can’t pump out books like they’re on a factory line.
The thing is, I edit and rewrite a lot. I want the books to be really great when they come out. Often times that means I scrap entire sections to redo them. But every time I do that I am reminded of how much time I stacked on for the next release date. I am just starting out on this journey, so maybe I shouldn’t stress so much and just enjoy the ride. But I have so many books I want to write, yet so little time to create them. It feels that way, anyway.
I currently work night shifts as a security guard. I actually really like the job, but these days I look at it as a ball and chain around my leg. I could write so much more if I did it for a living. I would write like a madman. It would be the only thing I did all bloody day. Going into work now just frustrates me. I can get 1000 words a day done after I wake up from the nightshift. If I didn’t work in security, I could wake up at, say, 9am and write straight through the day or something. To some people that might sound like a waking nightmare. That would be my dream scenario, without a doubt. I could write a hundred books in my lifetime. I could tell all the stories I want to.
I know I’ll get there someday. It’ll be awesome when it eventually happens. But I know this road is a very long one. It’s agonizing on some days. I could have many empty years ahead of me doing this. I’m getting better, slowly, at pushing my goal of writing as a career from my mind and just having fun. I recommend that for anyone who is also in my position. This is a painfully long path to take. But I still believe that it’s only a matter of time as long as you keep putting out new work. Just keep creating. Somebody will take notice of you eventually.