If you are reading this (thank you) there is a very strong chance that you are a writer. Which is great, you will certainly understand where I am coming from.
As a writer, I don’t believe in the ‘odds’. I don’t believe in letting life run though the same channels; going through every day on autopilot, afraid to touch the controls in case we spiral out of control and crash. I refuse to play it safe. To play the odds.
If I believed in them, I would not be doing what I am. I would not be writing fiction. If we can step outside the writer’s mindset for a moment and just look at it all in the plain light of day. The chance of succeeding as a writer is slim to none. With that, I am not talking about Stephen King style success, but an ‘I write full time and just manage to pay the bills and support my family’ level of success.
Ok, quickly, jump back into the writer’s brain; it’s scary out there. Do we have everybody, ok good. You see what I mean right? The odds are just terrible. So I ignore them. They don’t actually mean anything anyway. They are nothing more than an attempt to control us. To herd us all together. We are much easier to deal with then.
I refuse to be a machine, I refuse to conform just because it is what is expected of me. I will focus my attention on my writing, because that is who I am. It is who we are.
Am I living a lie? Quite possibly. But I am happy, and I couldn’t care less about the disapproving looks or belittling thoughts of others.
Neither should you.
To add to my delusions of grandeur, I am in the process to setting up my own freelance writing company. Lone Wolf Writing Services. I already have two clients sending work my way. One I have been working with for some time, while I am currently working on my first project for the other. If all goes well it too will become a regular thing. The aim is, of course, to move into the full time writing industry. Combining writing freelance with writing fiction to give me the theoretical best of both worlds.
Given I have a family of four children, I am painfully aware of my expenditure each month, and the level of income needed to survive. I am also aware that the odds of me making this are even less in my favour than of making it writing fiction. Once again, I don’t care. I don’t want to think about my chances of success, because thinking about being successful, or rather thinking about how small my chances are, is only detracting from me getting busy and making myself a success.
Not to mention the fact that l am much happier to live a lie and work myself like a rented mule in order to sustain the lie, than I am to admit that working in an office, having my soul slowly digested one day at a time, is my true destiny.
I am a dreamer. We are dreamers, and I will encourage my children to be dreamers too. I will be damned if I or them, ever become sheep; cogs in the machine.