Writing is a compulsion I’ve tried to stifle all my life because it consumes me totally. When I’m writing I forget time, place and other people – thankfully I have no dependents. I sometimes crave a sunny, uninhabited island where I could be alone with my thoughts and a solar-powered laptop. But I would probably go quietly insane or develop a severe case of RSI as my thoughts come faster than I can type when I give them free reign. I would be like a woman possessed trying to capture them all before they slipped away.
I yearn for the day when I have earned enough royalties to safely give up my day job, but I fear it equally. With nothing to stop me daydreaming I might lose touch with reality and become a part of my creations if I’m not constantly pulled back into reality by other obligations.
But I have taken several mini career breaks in the last seven years and they have been more glorious than anything I could have imagined. To have a chance to write freely without thinking of getting up for work the next day was sublime. I would love to take another breakright now, but it would defeat my long-term plans. I’m trying hard to be disciplined, to be patient and wait until the time is right, but it’s so hard!
