I’ve come to realise that to write, to spend all those hours strolling around inside your head, you need to be…different. I would suggest that many of us on this blog realised this at an early age. A disquieting, self-aware, maverick streak that set you apart from the herd mentality.
Quite a few of us, too, need the distraction of shiny things, of cud-chewing conversation, of mindless TV, a little less than most. That’s because we have more exciting things going on in our heads.
And yet the world doesn’t go away. Lots of people want a piece of you. Family, work, friends. All part of the great plan, and all necessary to make you human. The writing process is a road full of speed bumps, too. Rejections, deadlines, edits, promotions. It makes you consider why we bother.
I know why I bother. Because I have no choice. If I didn’t, I’d be left with such a big hole, I’d probably fall in and never reach the bottom.
So, we’ve read already this month of how those obstacles need to be overcome. Of how some people have prioritised and juggled. How some people have stood up and confronted them. But my approach is a little bit more sanguine—maybe because I’ve been doing this for a long time. It’s been summed up by someone who puts it a lot better than I could.
To travel hopefully is a better thing than to arrive, and the true success is to labor.
– Robert Louis Stevenson