It might be easier if I had grown up wanting to be a writer, but that simply isn't the case. Writing seems to be something I always did but never paid much attention to. I wrote all the plays that my class did in school. I wrote short stories. I wrote mystery scripts for various theatre companies. But I always did it so that I could be IN the plays. I find it amusing that the writing is now the way that I make my living. Irony - not a fan?
It is a lonely life. It would be nice to have others around so that I could bounce ideas off them - or simply to be able to hear another human voice during the day while my kids are at school. It's a good thing, I suppose, that I have always been happy with my own company.
Enough of this whine of self-pity. I'll get over it. And I'll finish the mysteries that I've said I'll finish.
Grrrrrr.
Elspeth, these are the kinds of things I used to post about on my blog before the book took off. I really miss having these kinds of conversations. Thank you for starting them!
ReplyDeleteI agree that sometimes it can be a lonely life, but other times I prefer it that way. More and more I find it to be the only thing I want to do, though, even though some days it is indeed a chore and downright frightening.